More Than Meets the Eye
by Aggiebell
Summary: To those who don't know him, his name brings to mind...not much, really. Those who do know him, however, realize that there just might be more than meets the eye to Neville Longbottom. A sixth year fic.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, Warner Brothers, and its various affiliates. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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More Than Meets the Eye

Prologue

__

Summer

The old woman bid her grandson good night and closed the door to his room. She gave a slight sigh and shook her head in disbelief as she headed down the hall to her room. So many times he had failed to meet her expectations. She had been furious with him when she first heard he'd broken his father's wand. That wand was one of very few links she had left to her son. _To what **remained**_ _of her son,_ she amended. But then...then he had told her about June and the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Her lips tightened as she remembered his story. She couldn't really stay angry after learning what he had gone through. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for Neville after all.

~*~

__

15 August

Neville Longbottom woke with a start and glanced toward the window of his room. He was a bit disoriented at first--the nightmares always did that to him. In his mind, he could still see his friends lying injured on the floor and the prophecy falling as if in slow motion to shatter as it hit the ground. He could still hear Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries, taunting him about his parents, and could still feel the pain of the Unforgivable Curse cast upon him.

Neville shook his head to clear it, as he heard a knock and his grandmother's voice at the door. "Neville, time to get up. We need to go to Diagon Alley today to get your things for school."

"Coming, Gran. I'll be out in a minute. I just need to check the plants first."

Neville walked over to the window of his room and looked at the odd collection of plants he had gathered there. A small pot of yellow daisies bloomed vibrantly on the windowsill. The long, winding stems of several varieties of ivy wove around a window box of fragrant herbs before climbing up the drapes. And, of course, there was his _Mimbulus mimbletonia._ He grinned fondly when he looked at that particular plant, a gift from his great-uncle last year. He'd already had to repot it twice, and if it kept getting bigger, he was going to have to transplant it again soon. Maybe he'd wait until he got back to school, and he and Professor Sprout could try propagating it while he was at it. And the plants all needed fertiliser. He'd have to see about getting some today.

Neville turned from the window and started to get dressed. He paused as he caught a glance of his reflection in the mirror and looked at his image critically. He was slightly thinner than before--he had been working outside in the garden every day since he had arrived home. He'd grown a bit, too--not much, but enough to notice. The sleeves of his robes now hit well above his wrists and the hem a few centimetres above his ankles. Plain brown hair, round face--although not quite as round as it had been. Not much to look at, really. He shrugged and finished dressing.

After one last glance in the mirror ("You look fine, dearie," it said kindly), he opened his door to meet his grandmother. He was slightly less nervous about the trip to Diagon Alley than he had been earlier--the talk with Gran had helped alleviate some of his anxiety. Now he was mostly just excited. He would finally have his own wand--one that had chosen him and not his father. He'd heard, of course, that the wand was supposed to choose the wizard, not the other way around. He hoped that having his own wand might help him with some of his...difficulties. He knew he wasn't stupid; he just had a hard time with magic that required a wand. And Potions, but he didn't count that against himself. Everyone, excluding the Slytherins, had trouble with Potions.

~*~

The wizarding world was like the Muggle world in one way, at least. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Neville thought that statement couldn't have been truer the moment he stepped out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron. The place still looked the same after all these years, down to the tabletops, worn smooth from years of use. Walking out of the pub into Diagon Alley, he was reminded again of the truth of that statement.

Everywhere he looked, people were rushing about. The sight disturbed him, really--all these people going about their business as though there were nothing wrong in the world. He knew better. Briefly, he thought of his nightmare earlier. He had seen with his own eyes the horrors the world contained.

Neville's grandmother looked around disapprovingly at the people bustling on the streets and said, "You'd think they have no idea You-Know-Who is back, the way they're acting. Hmmmph. Well, come along, then, Neville, we need to get your things." He was jerked back to the present by his grandmother's words, and he hurried to catch up with her as she walked down the street.

~*~

First they headed to Flourish and Blotts to get his books. He glanced again at the titles as he put them on the counter. Aside from his new Herbology texts (_Advanced Herbology: Dangerous Plants and Their Uses_ and _Muggle Plants and Their Place in_ _the Wizarding World_), the only one that seemed remotely interesting was his new book for Defence Against the Dark Arts (_Curses, Jinxes, and Hexes: What They Do and How to Counter Them_). He shuddered a bit as he placed his new Potions text on the counter. He'd been both astonished and relieved when he'd received his marks for his O.W.L.s. Astonished because he had somehow managed to scrape out an "E" on his Potions O.W.L., relieved because an "E" wasn't a good enough mark for Snape to allow him into Advanced Potions. Unfortunately, soon after receiving his marks, he got an owl from Dumbledore that stated that arrangements had been made for Neville to take Advanced Potions and that strongly..._suggested..._thathe plan on doing so. When Gran had seen the note from Dumbledore, she had, of course, insisted that he follow the Headmaster's wishes, so he had to suffer through Snape again. He just hoped he wasn't the only Gryffindor in a den of Slytherins. He wondered briefly who the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would be but decided it wouldn't be worth it to worry now. Besides, whoever they hired _had _to be better than that old cow Umbridge.

After getting new robes at Madam Malkin's, they stopped at Flitterbloom Fancies, the plant centre, so he could get some fertiliser for his plants. He knew Professor Sprout preferred DragonDung™, but the smell put Gran off, so he chose a different, less...odious-smelling...fertiliser. It wasn't the best, but it would have to do. He wanted to leave his plants as healthy as possible before he left for school, or else they'd be goners for sure. Gran's thumb was more brown than green.

Finally, they went into Ollivanders. This was Neville's most anticipated stop of the day. He had no idea what to expect, since he had only ever used his father's old wand. Oh, he'd heard about when his friends got their wands, but they never described in detail what happened. Truthfully, though, Neville hadn't paid too much attention to the stories. He hadn't needed to, since Gran wouldn't bend on the issue of the wand. He would use his father's wand, to honour him, and that was that.

The experience was...interesting, to say the least. Neville and Gran walked into Ollivanders, and Neville lost all hope of having any control over the situation. Mr. Ollivander greeted his grandmother by stating her name and describing her wand (willow, hair from a unicorn mane, ten inches). He then whipped out a tape measure that measured Neville in ways he didn't know possible. Finally, Mr. Ollivander had Neville start testing out wands. In the end, he had tried several, nearly destroying part of the shop, before Mr. Ollivander finally found the right one: oak with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches and slightly flexible. As they were leaving, he thought he heard Mr. Ollivander say something, but Neville couldn't quite make it out. Something about expecting great things, he thought, but that didn't make any sense at all, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

~*~

That evening after dinner, Neville took care of his plants, fertilising, pruning, and talking to them. He had once read in a Muggle plant-care book that talking to plants helped them grow healthy and strong. He'd thought it a mad idea when he'd first read it, but after thinking a bit, he guessed it couldn't hurt; now he tried to talk to them every night. He always looked around to make sure no one was watching him before he began, though, just in case.

Later that night, as he tossed and turned trying to get to sleep, he thought back to his new wand and the conversation he'd had with his grandmother earlier in the summer. The highly uncomfortable conversation in which he had explained _why, _exactly, he needed a new wand and _how,_ exactly, his father's old one had been broken.

__

"Um...G-G-Gran..." he stammered. "I need to talk to you." He hadn't been kidding when he had told Harry that his grandmother was going to kill him. At the time, he would _rather have faced Gran than the Death Eaters, but now he wasn't so sure._

She sighed. "What is the matter _now, Neville? You've been home for only a day; you can't have destroyed anything yet."_

"Well, actually, I didn't destroy anything...here."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked sharply.

"Well..." he mumbled, "y'know they discovered Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries last month? And that You-Kn...I mean, V-Voldemort, is back? Well...I was therewhenithappened." Neville rushed to get the last part out, then groaned. Of course she knew he was there when it happened; she'd received an owl from Dumbledore explaining that he was safe, and he'd received a Howler soon after. Although now that he thought about it, she knew only that _he had been in the Ministry building when it happened. What she **didn't**_ _know was that_ _he was actively involved in the fight. He'd conveniently...forgotten...to mention that part of the whole affair._

She huffed impatiently. "Yes, Neville, I know you were there when it happened. What has that to do with anything?"

"IbrokeDadswand."

"What did you just say?"

"I said that I broke Dad's wand. While I was fighting the Death Eaters." He glanced at her quickly, and her expression caused him to wince before he lowered _his eyes to study his trainers. "I'm sorry. I know how much it meant to you, but a Death Eater kicked it, and it broke." He rubbed his nose absently as he finished._

"Sit."

He sat. You didn't ignore an order from his grandmother, especially when you were in trouble already.

"Do you mean to tell me that you were in the Department of Mysteries...fighting Death Eaters?"

"Yes."

"Sweet Merlin." Neville's shoulders jerked, _and his eyes widened at the epithet. He'd been told a thousand times that his grandmother was a lady, and ladies never, ever used such common language._

"Start at the beginning. Don't leave anything out."

So he told her everything. Dumbledore's Army. Harry's dreams. The Thestrals. The long hallway with the doors. Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Luna. Fighting alongside Harry. The room filled with prophecies. Bellatrix Lestrange. The Cruciatus curse. Sirius. Dumbledore. Voldemort. She'd been silent through most of his tale, but her face was ashen and strained. He thought he'd heard her gasp when he mentioned Bellatrix Lestrange. And when he told her about being hit with the Cruciatus curse, she wept.

There was a long silence after he finished. Finally, she said, "Neville, we will be going to Diagon Alley before school starts. We'll get you a new wand then. Now, why don't you go up and go to bed. You look exhausted."

He stood and turned to go, relieved that her reaction had been so mild, _but before he could leave, she stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, saying quietly, "Neville, I'm proud of you."_

That was the first time that he could remember her saying she was proud of him.

~*~

Neville spent the last few weeks before the term started out in the garden or up in his room, preparing his plants for the worst. He fervently hoped they would still be alive when he came home at Christmas, but Gran _really_ didn't know anything about plants. Last year, when she had taken care of his plants while he was gone, she'd forgotten to water them for weeks on end, only to "make up" for it later by drowning them. And then there was the Puffapod incident. He winced at the memory; the blooms had filled the parlour after she'd dropped the basket containing the pods. He'd planned on planting them in the back garden, but none had survived being dug out of the carpet.

The day before he left for school, he and Gran went to visit his parents at St. Mungo's, stopping for a nice lunch before returning home. He then carefully packed his trunk and retrieved Trevor from the garden, where he'd spent the holiday.

The first of September arrived bright and sunny, and Neville got out of bed and ready without any prodding. He went downstairs and had breakfast with his grandmother before returning upstairs to get his things.

Before he left his room for the last time, he had a quick conversation with his plants. "All right, you lot. I'll be gone for a while. Gran has promised to look after you, but...well, you know she's not all that handy with plants. You'll just have to hang on best you can 'til Christmas. I'll be back then." With that, he gathered up his _Mimbulus mimbletonia _and headed down the stairs.

"All right, Gran. I'm ready." And it was the truth. There was something _different_ about him; he'd seen it in himself in the hospital wing at Hogwarts after the incident in June. He wasn't sure _what_ it was, he just knew it was. For once in his life, he actually felt ready to face the future.

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A/N: Many thanks to Gridley for letting me use the wand he chose for Neville. If you haven't read his excellent fic, "The Making of a Wand," which can be found at PhoenixSong, I highly recommend you do so. Also, thanks to ChaoticK and Gridley for pre-betaing, and Lucyjekyll for being the fabulous beta she is! Special thanks to Malfidus, who advised me to "just sit down and write something, already," and to OHGinnyfan for her comments and support, and for pre-betaing at least a million versions of this chapter.


	2. Chapter 1: Back to School

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rowling, Warner Brothers, and its various affiliates. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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Chapter 1

Back to School

Neville said goodbye to his grandmother one last time before loading his trunk on the Hogwarts Express. She had never really been one for displays of affection, but they'd come to an understanding, of sorts, since their talk.

"Bye, Gran. I...I love you."

She smiled gently at him and said, "Goodbye, Neville. Have a good term, and study hard. And Neville, be careful."

"I will. I promise." In his haste to board the train, he didn't hear her say, "I love you, too, Neville."

Once on board the train, Neville started looking for a compartment. Last year, he'd despaired at ever finding a place to sit; he was too shy to barge in on someone, even if that someone was "Loony" Luna Lovegood. If it hadn't been for Ginny, he would've probably ended up standing in the corridor the entire trip. This year, however, he had no problem asking Luna if he could sit with her. They had, after all, been through a lot together last year.

"Hullo, Luna. Mind if I sit here?" he asked as he poked his head through the door. He noticed that she hadn't changed much at all over the summer. She still had that rather _dreamy _expression on her face, and her wand was tucked behind her ear.

"Oh, hello, Neville," she said vaguely. "Come in." If it had been anyone else, Neville would've thought she was being standoffish, but it _was _Luna, and you never could tell with her.

"How was your holiday?" he asked. "Didn't you go somewhere...Sweden, wasn't it?"

"Oh, no, after the incident at the Ministry, Daddy was kept horrendously busy at _The Quibbler, _so we spent our holiday here. I did help him look for Calygreyhounds in France, though." 

Luckily, Neville was saved from having to reply by the lurching of the train as it started down the track. He was almost thrown into her lap but caught himself just in time and lowered himself to the seat next to her. He gingerly placed his _Mimbulus mimbletonia _on the seat between them.

"How was _your _holiday, Neville?" she asked.

"Oh, all right, I suppose. I planted a garden out behind Gran's house and studied some defence spells a bit. Pretty boring, actually."

Before she could respond, the door to the compartment opened, and Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione came in and took seats. Hermione and Ron were going on about having to go up to the prefect carriage later, and Ginny was laughing and shaking her head at their bickering.

"Hello, Neville. Hi, Luna!" Ginny said brightly. "Did you have a good holiday?"

Neville replied, "Oh, it was okay. I worked with my plants a bit. Did some homework. The usual."

Neville looked at Ron and Hermione to ask them how their holidays had been. He noticed that they were sitting a bit closer together than was really called for but didn't comment because he had just got a good look at Harry's face.

"All right there, Harry?" he asked worriedly.

"All right, Neville."

But Neville thought that Harry wasn't being entirely truthful. _He looks terrible. I hope he'll be okay, _Neville thought, as he absently stroked his _Mimbulus mimbletonia _until it started crooning.

"Neville, what the bl--" Ron broke off and shot a quick glance at Hermione.

"Don't swear, Ron."

"I _didn't, _Hermione."

"No, but you were going to. It's not right for a prefect to--"

"Neville, can't you stop that thing from making that _noise?_" Ron interrupted.

Neville jerked his hand away from the plant and started apologising. "Oh...sorry, I just...."

Harry turned his head from the window and said, "Ron, leave him alone. It's not bothering anyone."

"But, Harr--"

"Ron, it's okay. I don't mind. It's a bit relaxing."

"Are you certain, Harry?" Neville asked. "I'll stop if you want me to. Its singing just...calms me sometimes."

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Neville, I wouldn't have said it was all right if I didn't mean it. You should grow a backbone and stand up for yourself once in a while." He shook his head and went back to staring out the window.

"Sorry, Harry."

"Don't mind him, Neville. He's been that way since...well, you know," Hermione whispered.

~*~

The group spent their time talking about their summer, playing games, and eating sweets from the food cart. Neville showed everyone his new wand and told them about his talk with Gran. Eventually, even Harry began to lighten up a bit. They'd just begun a game of Exploding Snap when the door banged open to reveal Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Draco sneered. "My, my. How cosy. The Weasel--wait--_two _Weasels, a Mudblood, little Miss Loony, and the poor, pathetic, parentless prats, Longbottom and Potter. Really, Potty, you would think you'd have learned by now. People judge you by the company you keep."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron growled. "At least our parents aren't in Azkaban."

"At least _my _parents are functioning human beings and don't need someone there to wipe their--" Draco broke off at the sight of Neville, who had his wand out and pointed at a rather...personal...area of Draco's body.

"I wouldn't finish that thought if I were you, Malfoy," Neville said unsteadily, rising to his feet.

"Who's going to stop me? You?"

"Yes."

Malfoy burst into laughter, and Crabbe and Goyle joined in. "You and what army?" Malfoy asked.

"Funny you should mention that, Malfoy," Harry said. Draco looked up to see the other occupants of the car standing behind Neville, with their wands out.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You may think you've won, Longbottom. Just wait. I'll bet you're not so brave without all of your little friends around."

Draco turned on his heel to leave, and Neville sat shakily on the seat. He could feel everyone staring at him, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"What?" he asked defensively.

"Blimey, Neville, that was brilliant!" Ron said. "Where did that come from?"

"What're you going on about, Ron?"

"Don't be daft, Neville," Ginny said. "You just stood up to _Malfoy._"

"And did a bloody good job of it, too," said Harry. "You know, when I told you to grow a backbone, I didn't mean for you to do it right here in front of us."

Neville blushed. "I just didn't want to listen to him anymore."

"But, Neville--" Hermione began.

"Please, can't we just drop it?"

"All right, Neville, if that's what you want," Ron said. "But, you--"

"It _is _what I want," he said. He turned toward the window, missing the sharp look Luna gave him.

Neville took a deep breath and tried to calm himself as he stared out the window. _What was I thinking? _he asked himself. _I can't believe I just did that._

Really, though, he knew exactly why he had stood up to Malfoy. Draco's insult about his parents had hit too close to home, especially after yesterday. He and Gran had gone to St. Mungo's to see his parents before he left for school. It's not that they were any worse; they just weren't any better. They had been like this for as long as he could remember. He'd been so young when the attack on his family had happened that the only memories he had of his parents were of them at St. Mungo's. He didn't have any memories of simple things like hugs or birthday gifts. What he wanted most of all was to hear them tell him that they loved him. And just once, he wanted to hear them say they were proud of him.

When Draco started insulting his parents like that, he couldn't take it anymore. Add the fact that Draco's father, Lucius, and Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who left his parents in their current condition, were two of the Death Eaters involved in the incident at the Department of Mysteries, and it just made the taunting by Draco that much worse.

Neville sat there staring out the window, lost in his thoughts for a long time. He was jolted from his reverie when Luna asked him in her typical singsong fashion what he thought the Sorting Hat was going to say this year, and he was forced to respond.

~*~

The train arrived at the station, and the students disembarked to the sound of Hagrid's familiar call to the first-year students. Ron and Hermione went toward him, and the rest waved as they went to board the carriages that would take them up to Hogwarts. Neville listened as the others talked about the coming year but didn't say much during the trip to the castle. He was still shaken up about his confrontation with Malfoy, and he was afraid that his voice might betray him.

When they got to the castle, they headed toward the Great Hall but stopped when they heard Professor McGonagall call, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom. A word, please."

Neville and Harry looked at each other curiously and shrugged before walking over to where she stood. "Yes, Professor?" Harry said.

"The Headmaster would like to see the both of you in his office immediately following the feast. Mr. Potter, may I assume that you remember the way?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Very well. The password is 'caramel apples.'"

The boys turned and resumed their walk toward the Great Hall. "What do you reckon that's all about, Harry?" Neville asked. "You don't think it's because of what happened on the train, do you? Gran'll kill me if I've got into trouble already."

"I have no idea, but I doubt it's about that. We didn't even hex the git. Must be something else."

Neville and Harry entered the Great Hall and made their way to the Gryffindor table, waving at friends as they went. Neville sat across from Harry, who had taken a seat next to Ginny.

"What did McGonagall want, Harry?" she asked.

"Neville and I need to go see Dumbledore after the feast," he replied.

"Oh. Why?"

Harry started to answer her, but she interrupted him, saying, "Neville, what is _wrong _with you?"

"Malfoy," he whispered.

"What about him?" Harry asked.

"I.... He's staring at me. I think he hates me."

"He's always hated you, Neville. You're a Gryffindor," Harry said dryly.

"He's probably not too happy with you after you chased him out of our compartment earlier," Ginny said.

"Did I just hear that _Neville _chased _Malfoy _off?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Yes, you did," Ginny said. "He had his wand pointed at Malfoy's privates before anyone knew what was happening."

"Good show, Neville," Seamus broke in with a grin. "You've needed to show that git you can't be pushed around for a long time."

"Wish I had been there to see it," Dean said.

Neville started blushing. "It was nothing. Really. Besides, everyone else helped."

Harry shook his head and replied, "Neville, you have _got _to be more confident. It was _not _nothing. You were standing up with your wand out before any of the rest of us. He backed off because you had your wand pointed at him."

"If you say so, Harry." But anyone who looked at Neville could tell that he didn't believe a word.

Ron and Hermione joined the group at the table as the first years were brought in for the Sorting. This was usually one of Neville's favourite parts of the start-of-term feast, but this year he couldn't pay attention. His mind was racing with everything that had gone on that day and the fact that he and Harry had to see Dumbledore after the feast was over.

He completely missed the Sorting Hat's song and was only broken out of his reverie by the applause around him when the first new Gryffindor (Lucas Apleton) was announced. He tried to pay attention to the rest of the Sorting, but he just couldn't keep his mind on it. Every time he'd look up, he'd see Draco glaring at him. Finally, he forced himself to look somewhere else and found his eyes drifting to the Ravenclaw table. He stiffened when he noticed Luna watching him carefully, as if she knew something about him that he didn't. It was an odd feeling. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned his attention back to the front of the Hall, where the Sorting had just finished, and forced himself to pay attention when Dumbledore stood up to speak.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we eat, I'd like to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." He gestured to the man sitting beside Hagrid. "This is Professor Andrews. He is fully aware of the...unusual...circumstances you dealt with in this class last term. He has asked me to assure you that there will be practical lessons included in the classes this year."

After the applause died down, Dumbledore continued, "And now, let's eat," and clapped his hands before sitting down. Food instantaneously appeared on the tables, and the students began filling their plates.

Ginny looked toward the staff table and said, "I wonder what he's like. I hope he's better than Umbridge was."

Neville swallowed a bite of food before answering, "He has to be better than that old cow! No way to be any worse, is there?"

Hermione said, "I wonder what his homework will be like. I've already read the book, and it looks really useful. We'll have to practice a lot to learn everything that's in there."

Ron shook his head and said, "Hermione, we haven't even been at school for a whole day yet. Can't you give it a rest?"

Hermione said something back, but Neville had already blocked them out. He'd learned early on that those two were always fighting about something. He let his gaze wander around the Hall, avoiding the Slytherins, before coming to rest on Luna again. _She's a bit odd, that one. But nice. And she did stand up for me on the train. She seems so...loopy...sometimes, and then all of a sudden, she's looking at you like she knows everything you're thinking. _He looked away quickly before she would notice him staring.

After everyone had finished eating, Dumbledore stood up and spoke again. "Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that no magic is allowed in the corridors. He has also added some items to his list of forbidden objects." His eyes twinkled as he looked at the Gryffindor table. "Many of the new items can be found at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. The list is located on the wall outside his office." He looked at the Gryffindor table again. "The Forbidden Forest is, as always, forbidden. Students should not, under any circumstances, find themselves there.

"I have one last announcement." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "Many of you may have heard or read that Voldemort is back. I am here to tell you that what you have heard is true. He _is_ back. I firmly believe that Hogwarts is safe; however, we must all use caution as we go about our business. We must remain united. We cannot fight him as individuals, but together we are a powerful force. I urge you to use due diligence in your studies. Remember that it is your choices that make you who you are.

"Now," he said briskly, "I urge you all to go back to your dormitories and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."

~*~

After dinner, Neville and Harry made their way up to Dumbledore's office. They paused at the gargoyle guarding the entrance long enough to give the password, before stepping onto the stairs and being carried upwards. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape were waiting for them when they arrived. Neville cringed at the sneer that appeared on Snape's face when they walked into the room.

"I'm sure the two of you are wondering why I've called you here," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered. "Professor...why is Sna...er...Professor Snape here?"

Although it didn't seem possible, Snape's sneer grew more scornful before he answered, "The Headmaster has asked us all here to explain why I'm being forced to accept the two of you into my Advanced Potions class."

Neville and Harry looked at each other in surprise. "You have to take Advanced Potions, too, Harry?"

"Yeah."

"Er...Professor..." Neville began. "I don't understand...."

"And _why _does that not surprise me? The two of you have never been--"

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted gently, before turning to Neville and Harry. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, it has come to my attention that Professor Snape has some knowledge which would benefit our cause. It is imperative that the two of you learn what he has to teach you. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to have...certain people...find out that he is giving you this information, so private lessons are out of the question. However, if you are in Professor Snape's Advanced Potions class, and you manage to land yourselves in detention...."

Snape's lip curled, and his eyes narrowed. "Not at all an unlikely situation, given the history of these two in my class."

"Precisely."

"Professor Dumbledore, do you mean that we need to purposely get stuck with detention?" Neville asked fearfully.

"I am quite sure that won't be necessary," Snape said. "You manage to get into trouble without trying."

"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry. "What about Quidditch?"

"Professor Snape has already agreed that your 'detentions' will not conflict with your Quidditch schedule in any way, Harry. Now, if there are no more questions, you may.... Yes, Neville?"

"Er...sorry, Professor, but...well, I was wondering...."

"Spit it out, Longbottom. We don't have all night," Snape said bitingly.

"Er...y-yes, sir. Well, I understand why Harry is here. We know he's the one You-Know-Who...."

"_Voldemort, _Neville," Dumbledore corrected gently. "Say his name."

"Yes, Professor. We know that Harry's the one that V-Voldemort wants. Why am _I _here? I don't have anything to do with his defeat."

"Mr. Longbottom, have you never considered why the Death Eaters chose to attack your family?"

"Well...I mean, yes, I have, but...they were Aurors, and so I thought...."

"Sometimes, Mr. Longbottom, things are more than they appear. I regret that I'm unable to go into this any further at this time. Now," Dumbledore said briskly, "you two need to get back to Gryffindor Tower. I'm sure that Miss Granger and the Weasleys are waiting for you. Make sure you get a good night's sleep. I have a feeling you'll need it tomorrow." 

~*~

Neville and Harry headed down the spiral staircase and started to make their way toward Gryffindor Tower. "Harry," Neville began, "what do you reckon Snape has to teach us? I mean, how can a potion help defeat V-Voldemort?"

"Who knows? Maybe there _is_ a potion that can help. Last year, Snape taught me...er..._tried _to teach me Occlumency. Maybe it's something like that."

"But why would I need that kind of training? It's not like I'm ever going to be the one to fight him."

Harry slowed and looked guiltily at the ground before answering. "Maybe Dumbledore knows something we don't," he said quietly.

"But, Harry--"

"Neville, did you see how angry Snape was? Dumbledore obviously thinks that whatever it is, it's important for us to learn, or he wouldn't go to so much trouble." Harry grimaced. "Snape already hates me--just what I needed, to give him another reason. And now we're going to have these 'detentions' with him."

"Well, it's not as if I'm his favourite. I'm just glad there's someone else in the class with me. Besides Hermione--she just doesn't understand how I can have so much trouble. Flight-of-fancy," Neville said to the Fat Lady, who swung open to allow them into the common room.

As they entered, Ron looked up from the game of Exploding Snap he was playing with Hermione and Ginny. "'Bout time you got here! What did Dumbledore want?"

"Honestly, Ron. It's _Professor _or _Headmaster _Dumbledore. We're prefects. We need to be good examples."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, Hermione, I know we're prefects. Right now, I want to know what _Professor _Dumbledore said to Harry and Neville."

"Well. You don't have to be so snooty about it. I was just--"

Harry broke in quickly, clearly hoping to divert a row before it escalated out of control. "He was explaining why we have to take Advanced Potions."

"Well?" Ron asked impatiently.

"He said there was something that Snape has to teach us." He gestured toward Neville. "_Both _of us. Something that we'd need to know so we can defeat Voldemort."

"Bloody hell," Ron swore quietly.

"But what could it be?" Ginny asked softly.

Neville finally spoke up. "We don't know. Dumbledore just said that we'd be taking Advanced Potions and that detentions would be arranged for extra lessons."

"They're _arranging _detentions? And you haven't done anything wrong yet?" asked Ron.

Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Ron. They need a way that Snape can teach Neville and Harry without seeming suspicious. Everybody already knows he hates them. It's perfectly logical for him to give them detentions. Nobody will ever guess the real reason."

"Bloody bad luck, mates. Not only do you have to take Advanced Potions, you've got to spend _extra _time with Snape." Ron looked up at Hermione. "_I_ _know, _Hermione. 'Don't swear.' Neville, are you okay?"

Neville, who was starting to feel ill at all the talk about Snape and Potions and defeating Voldemort, shook his head and said, "Um...yeah. I'm just...tired. Think I'll head off to bed. See you in the morning."

He walked toward the stairs to the boys' dormitory and started to climb the steps. He paused for a moment and heard Hermione say, "But it's excellent, really. We can all study together," before he continued up and into the sixth years' room. From the looks of things, Dean and Seamus were already asleep. He opened his trunk and got ready for bed, his mind reeling all the while. _What is it that Snape has to teach us? Why Snape? More important, why **me? **_He settled into bed, pulling the curtains closed, and drifted off to sleep.

~*~

Neville jerked awake at the feeling of strong hands shaking his shoulders and a voice harshly whispering, "Neville. Neville, wake up, mate. C'mon, wake up!"

"Wha--" He sat up and looked around in a panic, finally focusing on the pair of bright green eyes staring concernedly at him. His mind frantically raced around before he finally placed who it was. "Harry! What's wrong?"

"You were screaming."

Neville blushed and squirmed in embarrassment. "Oh. Sorry if I woke you."

Harry gave him a weary glance and said, "'Sall right. I was awake anyway. Nightmare."

"Oh. Me, too."

The boys looked awkwardly at each other for a moment before Harry turned to walk back to his bed. "Er...'night, then, Neville."

"I hate her," Neville said suddenly.

"What?" Harry turned back to face Neville.

"I said I hate her."

"Who?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville's chin started quivering, and he fought to hold back his tears. "Sh...she tortured my parents. G-Gran s-said that she had started in on me before someone g-got there to h-h-help." He took a shuddering breath and continued, "She left me without any parents, just like V-Voldemort did to you. She ruined my life, and my mum and dad...." He trailed off and started fiddling with the blankets.

"And Sirius," Harry said bitterly.

"And Sirius," Neville agreed. "Harry, I want to...."

"You want to what, Neville?"

"I want to be able to fight her...t-to beat her. I want to be ready if she ever comes near me again."

"Neville, she's a Death Eater! It's not your respons--"

"Yes, it is! Look what she did to my family! Look what she did to me."

"You can't just go off and fight her."

"Why not?" Neville interrupted angrily. "You did. You _do! _And Ron and Hermione!"

"But--"

"Look, I know I'm not as good as them, but I have to do something. I can't just sit here anymore and do nothing."

"Neville, I never said you weren't as good as Ron and Hermione. But--"

"But what, Harry? You know I'm right. I want to do this. I _have _to do this. If I'm going to be involved in defeating V-Voldemort, then I need to be able to fight. And I need to be able to win."

For a moment, all they could hear was Ron's snores. Then Neville whispered pleadingly, "Harry, would you help me? Please?"

"Well, I was going to ask Professor Andrews about starting up the DA again. You're welcome to come to that."

"Thanks, Harry. But I was thinking about _more _help. Without so many people around. I'll still come to the DA meetings, of course, but...."

Harry sighed before answering, "All right, Neville. I'll see what I can work out. Now we'd better get some sleep."

"Good night, Harry."

"'Night, Neville."

"And, Harry.... Thanks."

__

A/N: Once again, copious thanks go to OHGinnyfan, Malfidus, and ChaoticK for their pre-beta assistance. Special thanks go to my beta, Lucyjekyll. She's amazing, even though she makes my chapters bleed pink.

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Pinedore: Thanks! I like Neville, too (obviously), and have ever since the first book when he stood up to the trio.

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OHGinnyfan: Thanks! And thanks for all your help with this beast!

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Majick: See, I did write another chapter. It just took a while to get it up. Anyway, thanks for the review. For some reason, Neville is the character that I can relate to best, so that's why I chose to write about him. All I have to say is poor Neville isn't going to have an easy year.

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Sugar Jones:Thanks! I love Neville, too.


	3. Chapter 2: Let the Fun Begin

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Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies. Don't own them, never will.

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Chapter 2

Let the Fun Begin

Morning arrived all too soon for Neville. After his conversation with Harry the night before, he'd lain awake for what seemed like hours before finally drifting off to sleep. The same questions kept spinning around in his mind: _What is it Harry and I have to learn? What could Potions have to do with it? Can I really learn enough to hold my own against Bellatrix Lestrange? WHY ME? _The last question was the thing that was really keeping him awake. _There's got to be **some **reason. But what could it be?_

Neville sluggishly got out of bed and got dressed. He'd been awake for only fifteen minutes, and he was knackered already. He hoped that his class schedule for the day was going to be easy. Knowing his luck, however, he was probably going to have Potions--or worse, _double _Potions--on his schedule for the day. He stumbled down the stairs to the common room and was greeted by Ron and Harry, who were on their way to breakfast.

"'Morning," he mumbled.

"Been walking long, Neville?" Ron asked.

"Wha...huh?" he replied, blinking slowly.

"Never mind," Ron replied. "What's with you this morning? You look like you're not quite all there."

Neville glanced at Harry before answering, "Oh, I just didn't sleep well last night. I'll be okay."

"We're heading down to breakfast. Coming?"

"Reckon I need to, if I'm going to get my timetable. Yeah, I'll come."

They walked slowly to the Great Hall, marvelling at the size of the first-year students.

"We were never that small, were we?" Harry asked.

"Well, _I _was never that small. You, on the other hand--" Ron smirked.

"Hey!" Harry protested.

"What? It's true!"

"No, it's not!"

"You're trying to tell me that you weren't a scrawny ickle firstie?"

"Oh, good. There's Hermione and Ginny," Neville interrupted. He brushed past Ron to lead the way to the Gryffindor table.

The boys sat down, filled their plates, and started eating. Neville wasn't terribly hungry after his long night but forced himself to eat a bit of toast and a few bites of eggs.

Hermione excused herself to go talk to Professor McGonagall. When she came back, she was carrying a sheaf of papers that she started distributing to the Gryffindor students. "Timetables," she said brightly, handing Neville his.

Neville looked at his timetable, and his eyes widened slightly just before his head hit the table with a loud _thunk._

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing the bump that was already forming on his forehead.

"Neville, you're really acting odd this morning. Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey?" Ron asked.

"No, I'm fine."

"Well, you don't look fine. What's the problem?"

Neville wordlessly handed his timetable over to Ron, who said, "Oh. Double Potions today. Bad luck, mate. At least it's not 'til after lunch. Besides, it could be worse."

Harry looked at Ron incredulously and asked, "Whatcould be worse than double Potions?"

"Double Divination. I thought I was done with it, but noooo...."

"I was going to ask you about that, Ron," Harry said. "Why're you taking Divination again? I thought you'd quit."

"Yeah, well, I was going to quit, until Mum saw the marks I made on my O.W.L.s. How I got an 'E' in Divination, I'll never know. She decided that if I did that well, then I must have 'natural talent,' and I 'should do everything possible to foster that talent,' or some such nonsense. I tried to get out of it, but you know my mum."

Ron handed the timetable back to Neville, who looked at it again and brightened. "Well, it's not all bad. I have double Herbology first thing."

Harry looked at him curiously before double-checking his timetable and saying, "Hang on. That can't be right. We don't have Herbology 'til tomorrow afternoon. I'm off this morning."

"And I've got Divination."

"Oh, that." Neville blushed and continued, "Professor Sprout asked me to assist her with one of her fifth-year classes. Sort of an apprenticeship. This was the only time it would fit into my schedule. Speaking of which, I need to get going. Professor Sprout wants me there early. See you later."

Neville walked outside into the crisp morning air and headed toward the greenhouses. It was a beautiful morning, clear and sunny, with a gentle breeze that ruffled his hair as he walked. On his way, he made a mental list of things he had to do today. He winced as he remembered that he had double Potions that afternoon. He was certain that Snape would be in fine form after being forced to accept Harry and him into Advanced Potions. 

Neville arrived at greenhouse three, where the fifth years would have class today. He opened the door and stepped in, blinking rapidly in the sudden glare. For some reason, it was always impossibly bright in the greenhouses--brighter even than it was outside. He guessed all the glass magnified the sunlight. Of course, the charms used to keep the light at the proper level for the plants probably added to the brightness. It was impressive, really. Each individual plant received exactly the right amount of light, for exactly the right amount of time. He looked around for Professor Sprout as he shrugged out of his cloak. In addition to being bright, it was also very warm; another charm kept the temperature constant.

Greenhouse three contained many of the more..._interesting_...plants that the fifth years would study during the upcoming year. He saw a flat of Fanged Geraniums against the west wall, next to the Venomous Tentacula. Both of those plants were known to attack humans, if you got close enough. There were pots of aconite and belladonna, both extremely toxic; students were warned to make sure they washed their hands after handling them, to avoid poisoning themselves. Blackthorn, nightshade, liverwort, hellebore. In his mind, he checked the plants against their properties--one was bad luck, and the other three were poisonous. He also recognised some Bubotubers from his fourth year and scowled as he remembered the Bubotuber pus-containing letter Hermione had received that year. Nasty plant, that. He reminded himself to be extra careful while he was working in this particular greenhouse. He really didn't need to be bitten, poisoned, covered with boils, or cursed with bad luck. Especially that last one. He already had enough bad luck to spare; that was plainly shown by the fact that Advanced Potions was on his schedule this year.

Luckily, greenhouse three also contained some less harmful plants. He saw some pots labelled "Honking Daffodils." _Those won't bloom until spring, _he remembered. He didn't understand why Professor Sprout enjoyed them so much--they were so noisy when they were in bloom. There were large boxes of herbs against the east wall--enough to make a Muggle gardener proud. Basil, coriander, rosemary, sage, and thyme, Neville noticed. A healer's garden.

Neville turned as Professor Sprout bustled in. "Ah, there you are, Neville. Good, good. You'll be helping with the fifth-year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. We're studying plants with healing properties today."

"All right, Professor. What do you need me to do?"

"First, you need to move those flats over here to the tables," she said, pointing at the long boxes of herbs he'd been looking at earlier. She pointed to the far wall. "You'll also need to get those smaller pots, the soil, and the fertiliser and bring them over. They'll be splitting and repotting the plants, and starting small healing gardens for themselves. We'll need the toadflax, too. Oh, and Neville, you need to put some work robes on. They're over against the far wall. You can change in the storage room."

Neville walked over to where Professor Sprout had pointed and changed out of his school robes and into a set of grey work robes. Then he moved the plants and pots over to the tables and lugged the large buckets of soil and fertiliser over to the floor beside the tables. He grinned when he saw the brand name of the fertiliser. He _knew _Professor Sprout preferred DragonDung™.

Neville worked on organising the plants on the tables, making sure that there were samples of each plant on every table. Then he divided the pots, counting to make sure that there were enough for everybody in the class. Finally, he made sure that each student would have the tools necessary to complete the job. Garden spades, gloves, and measuring cups for the fertiliser were all placed so the students could get to them. He leaned against the table and wiped the sweat off his brow as he finished.

Neville stood up as the door banged open and the students began to enter in groups of two and three. He waved at Ginny and Luna as they made their way over to where he was standing.

"Hi, Neville! What are you doing here?" Ginny asked.

"I'm doing an apprenticeship with Professor Sprout," he replied. "I'll be assisting with this class all term."

Luna looked owlishly at him and said, "Of course you are."

Neville looked curiously at Ginny, who just grinned and shrugged.

Professor Sprout moved to the front of the greenhouse and announced, "All right, you lot. Find spaces at the tables, please. Spread out, spread out. Does everyone have their work robes on?" She looked around at the class to make sure everyone was ready before continuing. "Excellent. Before we begin, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Longbottom. He'll be assisting me with this class for the term. He's already done this work, and he received an 'O' on his Herbology O.W.L., so he should be able to answer any question you might come up with. Today, you'll be starting your own healer's garden. Can anyone tell me what any of these plants are used for? Mr. Creevey?" 

"My mum cooks with basil. She makes this great--"

"Thank you, Mr. Creevey. That's enough. Obviously, I need to be more specific. You'll notice that most of the plants we're working with today are also used for cooking. I'm interested in their healing properties. Anyone else? Miss Fawcett?"

The Ravenclaw student answered promptly, "Basil reduces fever and is an anti-inflammatory. Toadflax cures skin irritation, and thyme is an antiseptic."

"Very good, Miss Fawcett. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Anyone else? Miss Weasley?"

"Um...rosemary promotes healing. It's an antiseptic and an anti-inflammatory, and I think it helps with digestion."

"Exactly right. Five points for Gryffindor. What about the sage and coriander? Does anyone have an idea?"

She paused to look at the students. "Anyone? No? Very well. Mr. Longbottom, could you help us with this question, please?"

Flustered, Neville answered, "Y-Yes. Of course, Professor. Sage can be used to restore memory, but it's also a good antiseptic and can help treat colds. Coriander aids digestion. I think it can also be used to cure mental disorders."

"Correct. Excellent work. All right, then, class. Everything you need is within your reach. Get to work."

Neville was kept busy for the entire class period. He answered what felt like a hundred questions and helped wherever necessary. He was generally shy in front of a crowd, but since this was mostly one-on-one or small group interaction, he did very well. Of course, the fact that he actually knew what he was talking about helped immensely.

He became a bit of a hero that class, too. Colin Creevey caused a slight commotion when he accidentally wandered too close to the Fanged Geraniums. Luckily, Neville had seen what was about to happen and was able to pull Colin away before the plant had really sunk its teeth into Colin's hand. Colin left the class with a few extra scratches...and a healthy respect for Fanged Geraniums.

By the time the bell rang, everyone had placed their gardens by the east wall of the greenhouse and cleaned up. Neville quickly finished cleaning up after the fifth years and hurried over to the door, where Ginny and Luna were waiting for him.

"Sorry for taking so long. Thanks for waiting!" he said.

"It's all right, Neville. We're not in a big hurry," Ginny replied.

The trio started walking toward the castle, chatting about the class they had just finished.

"That was brilliant, the way you saved Colin from that geranium, Neville," Ginny said excitedly. "I didn't know you could move so fast."

"Thanks, Ginny." He blushed. "I had a head start, though. I saw him getting too close. Those things can be wicked if you go near them."

"He was lucky you were meant to be there," Luna said. Her gaze rested on him briefly before she looked away.

"Um...what?"

She looked at him again. "You know I'm right. There's a reason you were there. There's a reason for everything."

"Er...I...." He looked pleadingly at Ginny for help.

She grinned and rescued him, saying, "I'm starving. We've been in that greenhouse for hours. Let's go eat." 

Neville said, "Me, too. Wonder what we're having."

"I hope it's not shepherd's pie," Luna said. "I hate shepherd's pie."

Behind Luna's back, Neville shot Ginny a grateful look and mouthed, "Thanks!"

~*~

Lunch went by all too quickly for Neville and Harry, and before they could say "Veritaserum," it was time for them to leave for the dungeons. Hermione did her best to hurry them along; they did their best to drag their feet as much as possible. In the end, Hermione won; she could be very persistent when she wanted to be. They arrived at the classroom with seven minutes to spare, much to Neville and Harry's dismay.

"Let's go in and find our seats," Hermione said anxiously. "We don't want to be late."

"Hermione, we still have seven minutes. Don't make us go in there any earlier than we have to. Neville and I are already going to be spending more time with Snape than anyone in his right mind would want. Just two more minutes. _Please?_"

Hermione looked at Harry and then at Neville, who was nodding his agreement, and huffed in disgust. "Oh, all right. You two can stay out here. _I'm _going in. Don't blame me if you're late." Turning, she walked into the room, muttering under her breath, "Honestly, those two, you'd think...."

Neville grinned at Harry. "Is she always like that?"

"Nah. That was a pretty mild reaction, really. Bet she's worse after we get our first homework assignment."

After a few moments, Neville said, "Reckon our two minutes are up?"

"Probably so." Harry sighed loudly. "C'mon, Neville. Let's get this over with." With that, the two entered the class and found seats together. Hermione had already partnered with Dean; given the reason they were in the class, the boys guessed they would probably end up partnered together anyway.

"Oi! Neville! I didn't know you were taking Advanced Potions. How'd that happen?" Dean asked.

Neville and Harry looked at each other and said together, "Long story."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we.... Damn, there's Snape. Look, we'll tell you later, all right?" Harry asked quietly.

"All right," Dean whispered back as Professor Snape swept into the room, eyes flashing, black robes billowing out behind him.

Neville sank lower in his seat and found himself wishing he were somewhere--_anywhere--_else. _This is going to be bad, _he thought. _Really, really bad. _Then Professor Snape began to speak, and Neville's nightmare became a reality.

"Although this is Advanced Potions, I still don't expect many of you to understand the subtle beauty of potion-making," Snape said. "Some of you are here because you earned your way in--there may be hope for you." Neville rolled his eyes as Draco Malfoy sat up straighter, a smug look on his face. "Some...." He span suddenly and looked directly at Neville and Harry. Harry stared back defiantly; Neville tried to shrink lower in his seat. Snape sneered at them, his eyes narrowed. "Some of you are here for other reasons. Regardless of why you are here, you _will _do the work required of you. Or you will be removed from this class. Is that understood?" He strode toward the front of the room without waiting for an answer.

"Today you will begin making Polyjuice Potion. This potion takes nearly a month to make. A mistake made today will not only render the potion useless, but will make it dangerous as well. Be very certain you get it right, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville swallowed and nodded, and he saw Harry shoot a quick grin at Hermione.

"_Mr. Potter. _What is the single most important ingredient in Polyjuice Potion?" Snape asked acidly.

"Er...."

"Cat got your tongue, Potter? Miss Granger, put your hand down before I'm forced to take points from you for being a know-it-all. Well, Potter? We're waiting. You must know _something _about potions, in order to be in this class." Across the room, Malfoy grinned maliciously.

"Well, Professor, I know that Polyjuice Potion contains lacewings, leeches, powdered Bicorn horn, knotgrass, fluxweed, Boomslang skin, and a bit of who you want to turn into. I think the most important part of the potion would be the bit of the person you want to turn into. You need to be certain that you get a bit from the proper person, and not someone, or something, else."

Neville looked at Harry in disbelief. "How'd you know that?" he whispered quietly.

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr. Potter. And five more for whispering in class, Mr. Longbottom.

"Longbottom. You supposedly know about plants. Explain to the class the role of fluxweed in this potion."

"Er...."

"Come, come, Longbottom. Surely the person with the highest score on the Herbology O.W.L. in over twenty years should be able to answer this question without any problems."

"Y-Yes, Professor. Fluxweed is generally known as a healing herb. Both leaf and seed can be used to stay the flux and lax of the belly. It can also be used to consolidate bones that are broken or out of joint. A salve made from the herb quickly heals old sores."

"Longbottom, you did not answer my question. How does fluxweed apply to Polyjuice Potion?"

"Er...I know it needs to be picked at full moon in order for it to be effective."

"I'm disappointed, Longbottom." Snape turned to the board and began writing the steps for making the potion. "For homework, I want three feet of parchment describing the properties and functions of fluxweed in the Polyjuice Potion. I expect more than 'it needs to be picked at full moon.'" Snape whirled to face the class and sneered at Neville. "I've given you the instructions for the potion. You will need to come to the dungeons and check on your potion at least once a day. Make sure you do so. Begin."

"Slimy git," Harry muttered under his breath.

Neville looked fearfully at Harry, whose face had flushed with anger. "Harry, don't..." he whispered.

The entire class jumped as Snape slammed his hands down on his desk. "Enough!" he hissed. "I will see both of you in detention this evening. Seven o'clock. Don't be late."

Neville and Harry worked in silence for the rest of the class period. They left their potion to simmer and headed out of the classroom and toward Gryffindor Tower, Harry muttering under his breath the entire time.

"That was a brilliant bit of acting, you two," Hermione said breathlessly as she caught up to them. "It's a perfect cover. No one will ever suspect that you're doing extra work with Snape. They'll all just think you have detention. Professor Dumbledore was a genius to come up with the idea."

"Er...Hermione," Neville began.

"Yes, Neville?"

"I...er...that is...."

"Neville..." she said impatiently.

"That wasn't an act."

"What? Of course it was," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You commit some minor infraction, Professor Snape puts you in detention, and you show up as scheduled. It was perfect."

"Yeah, well, it _would _be perfect," Harry said, "if it weren't for the fact that our first scheduled detention isn't until the day after tomorrow."

Neville shuddered visibly. "I'm afraid that this is the real thing, Hermione."

"But...he can't do that, can he? Professor Dumbledore said you would have detentions whenever they were scheduled. And they'd be scheduled ahead of time. Right?"

"Unfortunately, it doesn't seem as if Snape got the same rulebook as the rest of us," Neville replied.

"But that's not fair."

"And when has Snape _ever _been fair to me? Or Neville?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Hermione, Snape was...how shall I put this...a little..._upset _when he learned that Harry and I would be in his N.E.W.T.-level class, _and _he would be forced to spend extra time tutoring us. You _know _how he feels about Harry."

"The whole school knows how he feels about Harry, Neville."

"True. He doesn't think favourably of me, either. Not that I blame him."

"Oh, Neville," Hermione said. "You're too hard on yourself."

"Hermione, when we were in first year, what was I known for in Snape's class?"

"Well, there was that time your cauldron melted. And the time your potion exploded and made you break out in boils so you had to go see Madam Pomfrey. Oh, and the time...."

"I get the point, Hermione," Neville said. "And in third year? Anything with Snape there?"

"Oh, Neville. The Boggart. You don't think he still holds that against you?"

"Of course he does, Hermione," Harry said. "He's holding stuff against me that _my father _did. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. He's a slimy git." 

"You could just tell Professor Dumbledore--"

"And what would Dumbledore do about it?" Harry asked. "We were given detention. We'll serve detention. End of story."

"But--"

"Hermione, you know Harry's right. Anyway, we've got to get used to serving detentions with Snape. Might as well start now. I wish we didn't have to, but...."

"Oh, all right. I still think you need to tell Professor Dumbledore, though."

"Hermione," Harry said warningly.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop."

~*~

Later that evening during dinner, Harry explained to Ron and Ginny about the detention they were to serve. Ron was somewhat sympathetic about their situation, but mostly he just gloated that he wasn't the one who had detention with Snape on the first day of classes. After they were done eating, Neville and Harry started the trek down to the dungeons.

They walked into the dungeons to find...well, it could only be described as a mess. A _horrible _mess. Ingredients from different potions were scattered haphazardly on the floor throughout the room. Obviously someone in one of the classes had had a bit of difficulty at some point. It looked as if at least one cauldron had exploded. It was particularly bad around one of the desks in the middle of the room. There was a large cauldron-shaped black spot burnt into the top of the desk. The desktop itself was a sickly pea-green colour. Hot pink spots dotted the floor. And the walls. And Snape's desk. Neville and Harry looked at each other in disbelief. They were in for a long night.

"Potter, Longbottom. So nice of you to deign to join me. You see the mess, I presume. I expect it to be completely clean before you leave. Without magic. You'll find the supplies you need over in the corner." Snape looked maliciously at them. "I'll be in my office. I can hear everything that goes on in here, so don't expect to get away with any foolishness. _Well? _What are you waiting for? Get to work!"

"Yes, sir," Neville muttered.

Harry glared at Snape's retreating back before walking over to the cleaning supplies. "What do you say we divide and conquer this mess, Neville? I'll start on this side, you can start on the other side, and we'll meet in the middle?"

"Sounds okay to me, Harry. I hope this stuff isn't too hard to get up."

"Me, too. Well...let's get started, then."

Neville and Harry grabbed their buckets and scrub brushes and started over to their respective sides of the room. Both began scrubbing vigorously at the walls and were relieved to find that the hot pink spots, at least, came off without too much effort. They worked in silence for a while, before Neville asked, "So, Harry. Did I hear right that you get to play Quidditch again this year?"

"Yeah, thank Merlin. Dumbledore lifted the ban as soon as Umbridge was out the door. I hope I do okay. I haven't flown since...well, since she banned me, I guess. Wait, that's not totally true. I did play a few pick-up games with the Weasleys this summer. I haven't played a real game since that one last year, though."

"You're not really worried about that, are you, Harry? I mean, you're the best flyer I've ever seen."

"Thanks, Neville. I am a little worried...it's just been so long. I can't wait until practice starts, so I can get back into it."

As they continued to scrub, they discovered, much to their dismay, that while the hot pink spots came up without too much effort, the same could not be said about the green stains. _Those _were much likeMuggle chewing gum--sticky and gooey and very difficult to clean. They worked for almost two hours before they finally managed to work their way into the middle of the room, where the worst of the mess was. The desk that was the epicentre of the disaster looked much like a miniature war zone. In addition to the cauldron-shaped burn in the centre of the desk, the pink and green potions had mixed, leaving large lumps of violent blue.

"What in the world?" Neville asked. Even _he _had never made a mess as big as this.

"I dunno, Neville. I've never seen anything like it. It's like the cauldron superheated, but...."

"How come it didn't melt? Mine always melt."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "I'm glad I wasn't in here when this happened. You know how much trouble I would've been in? Even if I didn't have anything to do with it, Snape would still find a way to blame me for it."

Neville grinned at the truth in Harry's statement. "And if he didn't blame you, then he would've blamed me."

"Or both of us...just for being in here."

"Harry," Neville said hesitantly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Harry said.

Neville looked blankly at Harry, trying to come up with a response.

"I'm just joking, Neville. Of course you can ask me a question."

"Do you have _any _idea of why I'm included in this special training? I just don't understand. I've been going over it again and again in my head, but...."

"Longbottom! Potter!" Snape shouted. "What are you doing? You are in detention. You're supposed to be cleaning, not running your mouths at a tea party. Get back to work!" he snapped.

"Yes, Professor," the boys muttered.

"And Longbottom? It's not your place to wonder why."

"Severus, do you mind if I interrupt for a moment? I need to speak to Mr. Longbottom. Harry, you may also stay, if Neville wishes." The boys whirled in surprise at the voice of the Headmaster.

"Er...I don't mind if Harry stays, Professor."

"Neville, this will be very difficult for you to hear, but I wanted to tell you before you read about it in the _Daily Prophet._"

"Is...is it my parents? Are they all right?"

"Neville, please sit down," Dumbledore said gently. "Your parents are fine. However...."

"Oh, no. It's not Gran, is it? Is she...is she dead?"

"Neville, I need you to be calm for a moment. There was an attack this evening on your grandmother's house. I'm afraid the house was destroyed."

"But what about Gran?" Neville's voice rose in panic. "Is she all right?"

"We've been unable to find your grandmother. We have every reason to believe that she was not in the house at the time of the attack. However, we haven't been able to discover her whereabouts. Let me assure you that we have our best people working to find her. We will do everything in our power to make sure she's safe. Harry, would you assist Neville up to Gryffindor Tower? I must insist that you remain there for the time being."

"Of course, Professor. C'mon, mate," Harry said gently. "Let's get you to the common room."

**__**

A/N: According to the Lexicon, S. Fawcett is a female Ravenclaw student who started sometime in the 1990s. There's no specific date given, so I decided that S. Fawcett would be in Ginny and Luna's year, just because I can.

Again, many thanks go to OHGinnyfan and ChaoticK for prebetaing. Special ultra thanks go to my fantabulous beta, Lucyjekyll, for dealing with my capitalization issues in this chapter. It's also her fault that Gran went missing. :o)

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Majick: I can tell you that there will be more Neville/Luna interaction, but I'm still not certain what _kind_ of interaction it will be. I'm still trying to figure Luna out, but I think she'll be important to Neville. She just might not be important in a romantic sense. Thanks for pointing out the Ron/Hermione fighting thing! I'll have to make sure I don't fall into that trap. Yes, snarky Harry (what a great description!) is fun. I'm sure Ginny will have something to say about it, but we may not see it in this fic, since it's in Neville's POV. Draco, slimy git that he is, will definitely be back. Finally...sorry about Gran! Don't hate me, please--I already had this chapter completely done and with my beta before I read your review. :o) 

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Pinedore: I hope to have Neville grow a lot throughout this story--we'll see if I succeed. He's going to have to deal with a lot this year, but I hope he'll be stronger in the end because of it.

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OHGinnyFan: You know Draco bashing is one of my favourite pastimes, so I can pretty much guarantee that we'll see him again. As for Luna--she's very difficult for me to write (as you well know), but we'll be seeing more of her, too. I'm afraid that Neville (and Harry) will be spending a lot of time with Snape this year, poor things.


	4. Chapter 3: Defensive Manoeuvres

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The disclaimer still applies.

Chapter 3

Defensive Manoeuvres

Harry led a shell-shocked Neville through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room, where he steered him over to a seat in front of the fire. "Neville, sit down, mate. I'm going to get you something to drink."

Ron and Ginny walked over from their chess game, and Hermione looked up from her Arithmancy text as Neville sat down.

"Neville, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Neville shook his head at her and stared at the fire, eyes wide. He could feel his eyes burning with tears, and he blinked rapidly to try to get rid of them.

"Here, Neville. I brought you some water." When he didn't take the glass, Harry set it down on the floor beside him and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "I...I'm sure she's okay, Neville. Dumbledore will find her."

Neville only nodded and continued to stare at the fire.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "what's the matter?"

Harry looked grim as he asked softly, "Neville, is it all right if I tell them?"

Neville nodded hesitantly, and Harry replied, "We were almost done with our detention. Snape had us scrubbing the Potions classroom--cleaning up after some sort of cauldron explosion. Without magic, of course, the slimy git. There was this green and pink..._goo..._everywhere. Except where the green and--"

"What does all this have to do with Neville looking like death warmed over?" Ron asked bluntly.

"Ron!" Ginny chided.

"Hang on, Ron, I'm getting there," Harry said. "You just need to be a little patient."

"Get on with it, then."

"_Ron! _Harry, I'm so sorry," Ginny said. "You know how impatient we Weasleys can be."

"Sorry," Ron muttered. "Go ahead, Harry."

Harry glanced at Neville before continuing, "We had got to the middle of the room, where it was the worst. I think it was where the explosion happened. We had just started on the blue...whatever it was. We were trying to figure out how to go about cleaning it up, when Snape came out of his office and told us to get back to work. Then Dumbledore came in and said he needed to talk to Neville." Harry glanced at Neville again before saying quietly, "There's been another attack."

"What?" Ron asked loudly. "Another attack? Where? Was it You-Know-Who?"

"Ron, keep it down!" Harry whispered harshly.

"It wasn't St. Mungo's, was it?" Hermione asked. "Are Neville's parents all right?"

"Yeah, his parents are okay."

"Then why's he so upset?" Ron asked.

"_Ron!_" Hermione scolded.

"What?"

"Ron, you great git, it was his grandmother's house!" Harry said angrily.

"Oh, no," Hermione said. "Is she...."

"We don't know. Dumbledore came in and said that the house was destroyed and there's no sign of his grandmother."

"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry," Ginny said. "Is there anything we can do?"

Neville spoke for the first time since arriving in the common room. "I--I don't know."

"Well, Professor Dumbledore is working on it. He'll find her, Neville," Hermione said reassuringly.

Ginny reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll do whatever we can to help, Neville. Just let us know."

Neville smiled weakly. "Thanks, Ginny. I...I think I'm going to go to bed now."

"Are you certain you don't need anything?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I'll be okay. Thanks."

"If you think of anything we can do...."

"Hermione, let him go," Ron said. "I think he needs to be alone."

"I just want to help," she said quietly.

"We know, Hermione. We all do," Ginny said.

Neville got up and trudged toward the dormitory. As he started up the stairs, he heard Hermione say, "I think we need to try to keep people away from him tomorrow. He doesn't need anyone asking him questions he doesn't have the answers to."

"_Especially _that git, Malfoy," Ron said.

"I hope they find his grandmother," Ginny said. "He's lost enough people close to him."

"You're right, Ginny. I hope they find her, too," Harry answered seriously.

~*~

The next morning, Neville walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast surrounded by his housemates. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had told them what had happened while getting ready for bed the night before. Neville didn't realise it, but he was well liked, and his friends all volunteered to do whatever they could to keep others, especially Draco, away from him.

Neville was still in shock as he mechanically ate the breakfast his friends put in front of him. He stared at the table so he wouldn't have to look at anyone. He wasn't prepared to deal with the looks he would receive. The looks of sympathy from his friends were bad enough, without having to deal with the looks of malice from the Slytherins. He really didn't want to have to deal with Malfoy again.

The flapping of owl wings signalled the arrival of the morning post. Neville watched as a large tawny owl stopped in front of Hermione. She took a copy of the _Daily Prophet _from the owl and gave it a Knut before sending it on its way. Hermione started to read the front page, but quickly put the paper away when she saw Neville looking at her.

"What does it say?" Neville asked softly.

"I--"

"I need to know, Hermione. You can't keep it from me forever."

She sighed. "I know you do, Neville. We just.... Oh, never mind. Here, you read it," she said and handed the paper to Neville.

****

Dark Mark Seen Over Lancashire Home

By Mark Matthews

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The Dark Mark was seen over the remains of the Lancashire house belonging to Margaret Longbottom, 67, yesterday evening. The house and grounds were destroyed, and no sign of Longbottom could be found.

Longbottom's son and daughter-in-law, Frank and Alice Longbottom, were tortured to the point of insanity fifteen years ago and now reside in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom were heavily involved in the first fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before their torture and subsequent hospitalisation.

Their son and Longbottom's grandson, Neville, 16, is a sixth-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The younger Longbottom was involved in the June 1996 battle in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic building, in which several known Death Eaters were captured and the return of You-Know-Who was verified. Longbottom is a classmate of The Boy Who Lived, who, along with Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, insisted on the reality of the return of You-Know-Who last year.

Sources within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement say that the elder Mrs. Longbottom has been officially listed as missing and a search for her has commenced.

Neville folded the paper and handed it back to Hermione. "There it is, then. I wish they hadn't put that bit about my parents in there." He sighed morosely. "Y'know, it's not that I'm ashamed of my parents, no matter what Gran said, it's just...."

"Nobody thinks you're ashamed of them, Neville," Ginny said quickly.

Neville smiled thinly. "Well, you lot don't. There are others who do, though. Reckon I can't blame them. Nobody except for Dumbledore knew about them until last Christmas, when you saw me at St. Mungo's."

"I knew," Harry said quietly. "I've known for a while." He turned to Neville and said apologetically, "Dumbledore told me."

"It's all right, Harry. I appreciate your keeping the secret." Neville rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I hope they find Gran soon. She's tough, but she's old. She's all I've got, besides Mum and Dad. I just wish I knew why they keep going after my family." He looked up as Dean and Seamus approached them.

"Er...sorry to interrupt, but we need to get going if we're going to be on time for Transfiguration," Dean said.

Neville began gathering up his things. "Well, let's get going, then. Maybe McGonagall has some information for me." He led the way out of the Great Hall, trying to ignore the stares and whispers that followed him.

~*~

Surprisingly, Transfiguration wasn't as bad as Neville had feared it would be. Professor McGonagall was easy on him. Well, not easy, exactly, but not as tough as she could have been. They started by reviewing some of what they had learned for last year's O.W.L. examinations. Neville was amazed at how easy some of the things with which he had previously struggled had become. He still didn't perform perfectly, of course. The rabbit he'd been trying to transfigure into a teacup hadn't changed completely--the thing still had a cottontail--but there was significant improvement, especially considering the circumstances. He wondered briefly if his new wand had something to do with it.

"All right, class. That's enough for today," Professor McGonagall said. "I would like two feet of parchment on the transfiguration of animate beings to inanimate objects. You should include a comparison of the pros and cons of transfiguring at least three different species and a discussion of common problems encountered by novices. You may go."

Amidst a flurry of movement, one person sat motionless at his desk.

"Mr. Longbottom."

Neville looked up in surprise when Professor McGonagall called his name. "Yes, Professor?"

She looked at him kindly. "How are you doing?"

"Have...have you heard anything...any news...about my grandmother?"

She shook her head and walked over to stand next to him. "No, Neville, I'm sorry. I'm certain that the Headmaster will let you know as soon as he has any information."

"Yes, Professor," he sighed in response.

"Neville, I want you to be sure to let me know if there's anything you need."

"I need to know Gran is safe."

"I know, Neville," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Unfortunately, you've asked for something we're unable to grant you at this time. However, if there's something that we _can _do for you, if your workload gets to be too much, for example, then please don't hesitate to come to me. We'll do whatever we can to help you. Now," she said briskly, "I believe your friends are waiting for you."

"All right, Professor. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Neville. Go on, now. Make sure you eat something at lunch today. You didn't eat very much at breakfast."

"Yes, Professor."

Neville was relieved that he didn't have any other lessons that morning--the next thing on his schedule was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it didn't meet until after lunch. He wasn't entirely certain he would be able to sit through another class right now. Walking back to Gryffindor Tower with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Neville valiantly tried to ignore the whispers and stares. He felt a sudden kinship with Harry, who had to deal with whispers and stares every day.

Neville spent the break between Transfiguration and lunch in the common room, staring blindly out the window, alone with his thoughts. Harry and Ron were playing a game of wizard chess and talking about Gryffindor's chances at winning the Quidditch Cup this year; Hermione had gone to her Ancient Runes lesson. She was to meet them in the Great Hall for lunch later.

Neville sighed and stood reluctantly when Harry and Ron asked him if he was ready for lunch. He wasn't really hungry, but after his conversation with McGonagall earlier, he knew he had to at least make a show of eating.

"Neville, mate, are you all right?" Dean asked as he sat at the Gryffindor table.

He was getting mightily tired of that question. "I'm fine, Dean. Thanks for asking." He began spooning food onto his plate, hoping against hope that people would get the hint and leave him alone. He was grateful that he managed to get through lunch without any major incidents. He'd only had to deal with the concerned glances of his housemates.

Until they were leaving the Great Hall, that is. As they were leaving, they were surrounded by students asking if he'd heard anything about his grandmother or if they had really seen You-Know-Who last summer.

Through the crowd, Neville saw Malfoy lean over to whisper something to Crabbe and Goyle, then look up and smile at him maliciously. Malfoy's eyes narrowed spitefully as Neville and the other Gryffindors passed by. "Too bad about your _grandmother, _Longbottom. Last I heard, she was begging for mercy."

At that, the roar of the crowd grew to deafening proportions as Neville's friends howled in outrage.

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, drawing his wand.

Beside him, Neville could hear Hermione softly chanting, "Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him."

"Who's going to make me, Potty? You?" Draco sneered. "I don't think so."

"What is the meaning of this?" Professor Snape demanded. The crowd parted to let him through. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Potter threatened me, Professor."

"I did not!" Harry shouted. "Malfoy was picking on Neville, saying horrible things about his grandm--"

"Enough!" Snape thundered. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for fighting in the Great Hall. And detention, I think, Mr. Potter." His eyes narrowed as he looked at Neville. "You, too, Longbottom. For causing a disturbance."

"_What? _Neville didn't do anything wrong!" Ron said heatedly.

"Would you care to join them, Mr. Weasley?" Snape paused for a moment as Ron opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. "I thought not. Tomorrow night, gentlemen, eight o'clock. You'll find me in the dungeons. Break up this crowd, and get to your lessons. Now!" Snape turned on his heel and strode away, robes billowing out behind him.

~*~

Neville and the other sixth-year Gryffindors finally broke free from the crowd, and they hurried to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. They were all curious to learn more about Professor Andrews. No one knew anything about him, other than what the Headmaster had said on the night of the start-of-term feast. Neville couldn't believe that the feast had occurred only two nights ago--it seemed to him that weeks or months had gone by. He was worried about Gran, and the fact that he hadn't heard anything about the search for her didn't help things one bit.

Talking quietly among themselves, the students settled into their seats, and once again, Neville found himself partnered with Harry. He forced himself to look around the room. Thankfully, all signs that Dolores Umbridge ever existed had been banished from the room. Instead, Neville saw shelves filled with an array of practical defensive items, ranging from Foe-Glasses and Sneakoscopes to items he didn't recognise--he thought they might be Muggle in origin.

The door opened, and all heads turned as Professor Andrews entered the room with a genial smile on his face. He looked to be about forty-five, Neville thought, although he was terrible at guessing ages. He had dark brown hair that was greying slightly at the temples and kind, brown eyes. He seemed to be a man who enjoyed laughing and smiling, as evidenced by the laugh lines that were prominent around his eyes and mouth.

"Good afternoon, class," he said smoothly as he perched on the corner of his desk.

"Good afternoon, Professor Andrews," the class responded in unison.

Professor Andrews' eyebrows shot up. "Okay, that's enough of that. No need to answer in unison. Yes, Miss..." he said, looking at Hermione, who had her hand up.

"Granger," she answered promptly. "Hermione Granger. Professor, we only answered together because that's what Professor Umbridge--"

"_Cow,_" Ron muttered under his breath.

"Yes, yes, Miss Granger, I've heard all about Professor Umbridge and her teaching..._methods. _Let me begin by saying that I am _not _Professor Umbridge, nor am I like Professor Umbridge in any way, shape, or form. While you do have a textbook for this class--you _do _all have a copy of the textbook, I assume?"

At their nods, he smiled and continued, "While you do have a textbook for this class, you will be using it mainly as a reference. It is my opinion that the best learning is achieved by _doing, _and spending your time reading when you should be practising is counterproductive. There will be very little written work in this class."

Everyone grinned at this, except Hermione. She groaned quietly.

Andrews chuckled at their reactions. "However, there will be a large amount of practical work to be done, both in and out of class. I understand, Mr. Potter, that you led a defensive club last year?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered quietly.

"Are you willing to continue with it?"

"Of course, Professor."

"Excellent. Any extra practise you all can get in will, of course, be of benefit to you. Mr. Potter, if you'll see me after class today, we can arrange a time to get together and discuss plans."

Harry nodded.

"Now, before we begin today, I want to tell you a bit about myself. My background is a bit...unorthodox."

Neville looked at Harry, who shrugged in confusion.

"My first job after leaving Hogwarts was in the military. The _Muggle _military," he clarified. "I was in the RAF--the Royal Air Force. No, I was not a pilot--nothing so glamorous as that."

Neville heard Ron whisper to Hermione, "What's a _pliot?_"

Andrews smiled again. "A _pilot_...Mr....Weasley, correct?" At Ron's confirming nod, he continued, "is someone who flies an aeroplane."

"Like you fly a broom?" Ron asked.

"No, more like you fly a Ford Anglia," Andrews responded, laughing with the other students as Ron and Harry blushed.

"I trained people in survival techniques. My speciality was in capture and torture survival, although we tried to teach people how to _avoid _capture in the first place." The class sobered instantly upon hearing this. "After I left the military, I worked for a bit with the Aurors, teaching essentially the same thing. Now I'm here."

He looked around the class, noting the students' expressions. Most of them looked a bit frightened. Four stood out, their body language expressing not only fear but determination as well: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom.

"All right. Enough about me," Professor Andrews said briskly, standing up. "I'd like to start today by reviewing some basic defensive manoeuvres. Who can name a defensive spell?"

Hermione's hand shot up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"There's the Shield Charm. Its incantation is _Protego._"

"Very good, Miss Granger." Hermione looked pleased with herself. "Does anyone else have an example of a defensive spell? Mr. Weasley?"

"Well, my sister does a great Bat-Bogey Hex. She always used it to get us--her brothers, I mean--to leave her alone."

Andrews laughed. "That's not exactly what I was looking for, Mr. Weasley, but thank you. Anyone else?"

"_Expelliarmus,_" Dean said hesitantly.

"Very good, Mr. Thomas. That's a basic defensive spell, and one that can be used to your advantage."

"_Impedimenta,_" said Seamus.

"_Stupefy?_" asked Lavender at the same time.

"Yes, Miss Brown, _Stupefy _can certainly be used as a defensive spell. And Mr. Finnigan, _Impedimenta _is an excellent way to slow down an opponent. Now, it seems that you've all thought of the more obvious defensive spells. Are there any spells you could use to defend yourself that are not strictly defensive in nature?"

Harry joked, "I used _Accio _to defend myself from that Hungarian Horntail in fourth year!"

The class laughed, but Professor Andrews smiled and said, "That's exactly what I'm looking for. It's not, strictly speaking, a defensive spell, but you used it as one." His countenance became serious. "Sometimes, the thing that might save you is using something your opponent isn't expecting. So if you were in a duel, you could use _Accio _to summon something to help you--a rock or board to hit your opponent with, for example, or something you could use to distract him. You have to learn to look at things differently in battle, because sometimes the normal things don't work."

Neville squirmed uncomfortably at the mention of battle, and he noticed that Harry, Hermione, and Ron all tensed.

"What's something else you could use--something outside its normal application?"

"The Reductor Curse," Neville said suddenly.

"Excellent, Mr. Longbottom, and how could you use the Reductor Curse?"

"Well...er...you could...."

"Relax, Mr. Longbottom. This isn't an exam."

"Er...right." Neville took a deep breath to calm himself. "I--I mean _we,_" he said, looking at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "used it last June in the Department of Mysteries. We knocked down shelves while we were fighting the Death Eaters, and we were able to get away, at least for a while."

Andrews looked pleased. "Excellent thinking! Five points to Gryffindor."

"Th-thank you, Professor, but Harry thought of it," Neville said, blushing slightly.

"No matter. _You _answered the question." He glanced at his watch. "All right, next time we'll practise some of these spells you just mentioned. You may go. Mr. Potter, if you wouldn't mind staying for a moment...."

"Harry, mate, we'll wait for you outside so we can go to Herbology together, all right?" Ron asked.

"All right, Ron," Harry said.

"We'll just be a minute, Mr. Weasley," Professor Andrews added.

Neville, Ron, and Hermione walked out the door to wait for Harry.

"Well, that's a relief," Ron said.

"What's a relief, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Professor Andrews. He actually seems like he knows what he's talking about. And we'll be _practising _the things we'll be learning, not just reading about them."

"There's nothing wrong with reading, Ron," Hermione said. "He seems like he doesn't ever want us to look at the book. Honestly, sometimes I think--"

"I like him," Neville interrupted.

"What?" Hermione asked. "Well, of course you do. I'm not implying he's not a good teacher. I just think that sometimes reading goes hand in hand with practising and that _some _people forget that."

"I didn't forget anything, Hermione, I just said that we wouldn't only be reading about defence this term. That it'll be good to be able to _practise _the spells without having to sneak around to do it," Ron said, his face beginning to flush with anger.

"But that's _not _what you said, Ron. You said--"

Harry walked up and asked, "At it again, huh?"

Neville turned and looked at him in relief. "Of course."

"What's it about this time?"

"Oh, the usual. Hermione believes Ron doesn't think reading is worthwhile; Ron believes Hermione doesn't think we should practice what we're learning."

"Hey, you two!" Harry said loudly. "We need to get moving if we're going to make it to Herbology on time."

"What did Professor Andrews say about the DA? " Hermione asked, turning away from Ron.

"We'll still be meeting in the Room of Requirement. It seems to be the best place. We're going to start next Monday at eight o'clock."

"That's good," Neville said in relief. "I really need practise, especially since Gran--"

The other three looked at Neville uncomfortably. "Right," Harry said finally. "We _all _need the practise. Professor Andrews suggested opening the class to anyone in third year and above. We may have some special sessions for the younger students, too. They need to be able to defend themselves just as much as the rest of us."

They walked in uneasy silence at the thought that first and second years might need to learn and use defensive spells, until Ron changed the subject. "So, Neville, what do you think Professor Sprout has for us today?"

"Er..." he answered, startled. "I don't know."

"Well, you have inside information, don't you, since you're assisting Sprout? Surely you have _some _idea," Ron said.

"I dunno. The fifth years started healing gardens yesterday. Maybe it'll be something like that. Although...." Neville trailed off.

"Although what, Neville? I don't like the sound of that," Harry said.

"Greenhouse three, where we worked with the fifth years, has some of the more dangerous plants. We _might _be in there today."

"Dangerous as in..." Ron prompted.

"As in Fanged Geraniums--one almost got Colin yesterday. There's all sorts of poisonous plants in there, and there's some Bubotubers." He looked at Hermione apologetically when she shuddered. "But Professor Sprout didn't tell me what the sixth years were doing, so I don't know."

"Well, we _do _have that dangerous plants book. But we could be doing Muggle plants, too," Hermione said.

"Wait...that's it!" Neville said suddenly.

"What's it?" Harry asked.

"Muggle plants. That's what we're going to be working on. I helped get stuff ready yesterday, before...."

"That's a relief," Ron said. "I don't want to be attacked by a geranium! And Hermione's dealt enough with Bubotubers. So if we're doing Muggle plants, where do we go, Neville?"

"Greenhouse six. It's the small one in the back," Neville answered, leading the way to the greenhouse.

Once inside, Neville was in his element. He'd planted Muggle flowers and herbs in the back garden at his Gran's house during the holiday, so he was familiar with many of the plants they discussed.

He felt a sharp pang of grief any time Professor Sprout mentioned something that he'd put in the garden. It was all gone now. He remembered the evenings when his grandmother would come out to sit and talk with him while he worked. They'd had some of their best talks out in that garden--talks of the past and his parents, and of the future. He remembered how she loved the smell of the roses and lavender, and he sighed as he looked at the plants on the table in front of him. He hoped she was all right, so they would have a chance to sit and talk in a garden again.

Neville was so absorbed in thoughts of his grandmother that the lesson ended before he knew it. Later, he ate dinner and revised with everyone else, but his heart wasn't in it. He ended up going to the dormitory early, where he fell into a troubled sleep, thinking about his grandmother.

__

A/N: Once again, copious thanks go to OHGinnyfan and Lucyjekyll for editing the heck out of this chapter. You ladies are awesome! And thanks to Majick, who helped this Yank make sense of the English school system. Because of him, I was able to draw up class schedules that actually make sense and don't have Neville in two different classes at the same time. Chapter Four, "Of Hope and Dreams," is in Beta right now, and with any luck should be up relatively soon.

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Pinedore: I hadn't thought about mentioning _who_ made the mess. I'm not even sure I know! I just assumed it was some first or second year class, probably Gryffindor. I can just see Snape taking some other Gryffindor's mistake and making Harry and Neville deal with it, especially since he's a bit peeved at the moment. He really didn't want Harry or Neville in his advanced class.

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Majick: Well, you know how I feel about Neville. I think reluctant hero is a perfect description of him.

Ron and his Divination Woes™ make an appearance in chapter 5. He's not very happy with me at the moment. But I'm having fun, and that's all that matters, right?

I chose Dean because I could--we don't know all that much about him, and I needed someone else to be in Potions. He seemed logical. 

And yes, the Lexicon is my friend. It's usually open while I'm writing, and I spend a large amount of time trawling for facts.

I like the Colin idea. I may have to incorporate that! It may fit in chapter 5....

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LauraCeleste: No, you're definitely NOT the only Neville fangirl. Thanks so much for the compliments!

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OoshatiElf: Thanks!


	5. Chapter 4: Of Hope and Dreams

**Chapter 4**

**Of Hope and Dreams**

The next day passed in a blur. Each hour that passed without word of his grandmother meant an hour that she was...well, Neville didn't want to think about that. He walked around the school in a daze, surrounded by his fellow Gryffindors, who were still forming a protective barrier around him.

He'd gone to his lessons, but didn't recall much of what had been taught. He vaguely remembered Professor Andrews talking about other spells that were not usually considered defensive in nature, and he thought that Professor Flitwick might have reviewed a few Repairing Charms, but he couldn't give any details about what had been said. _Did I eat lunch?_ he asked himself as he wandered the corridors after leaving the Charms classroom. He really couldn't remember.

"Hello, Neville."

He turned to see Luna looking at him. She had her wand tucked behind her ear again and was wearing a necklace made of..._were those Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans?_ He looked closer and shook his head in amazement. She had strung the beans together in an intricate pattern: red, pink, pink, white, brown, pink, pink, blue, green, pink, pink, red. The pattern repeated three times in its path around her neck.

"Hi, Luna." He paused, trying to think of something to say. "Nice necklace."

"Oh, this?" she asked, holding it up for his inspection. "Thank you. I find it helpful when I'm revising." She leaned toward him conspiratorially and whispered, "I get hungry in the library sometimes."

"Oh...uh...." _What am I supposed to say to that? _he wondered. "That's nice."

"You haven't been eating," she said, abruptly changing the subject. "Or sleeping. Don't try to tell me you have. I can tell." Her gaze was suddenly sharp.

"Yeah, well, I'm—"

"Worried about your grandmother."

"Right," he said softly.

"You need to eat. And sleep. You can't help her if you don't."

"I don't see how I can help her anyway," he said, tearing his gaze away from her. "I don't know where she is. I don't even.... I don't even know if she's alive," he whispered.

"Of course, you do, Neville," Luna said matter-of-factly.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You know if she's alive. You just have to believe."

"I.... Luna, I don't understand what you're saying," Neville replied, shaking his head in confusion.

"Neville," she sighed. "What do you feel?"

"About what?"

"Your grandmother. What do you _feel_ about her condition?"

He stood in silence for a moment.

"Do you _think_ she's dead?" she persisted.

"No," he replied, looking down at his feet. "I don't know why, I just don't think she's dead. She's in trouble, though."

"See, what did I tell you? You know."

"But how do I know that's real?" he asked desperately. "And even if she's not dead, if she's in trouble, she needs help."

"Neville, I know people think I'm rather...odd." She paused for a moment and gave him a small smile. "They're probably right. But I also know that sometimes you just have to believe. Some of the things I've seen...." She shook her head. "Anyway, if you believe she's dead, she will be; that's all there is to it. But if you believe she's alive, then there's still hope. And if there's hope, there's always a way," she finished serenely.

"I—"

"You won't be able to help her if you don't take care of yourself, you know."

_How did we get back to me helping Gran?_ he wondered. "I still don't see how I can help her. Nobody knows where she is, not even Dumbledore."

"Neville," she said patiently, observing him with her misty eyes. "What did I just say about hope?"

"If—if there's hope, there's always a way."

"See, you _do_ understand!"

"I do?" he asked, bewildered.

"Of course you do." She patted his hand. "It'll work out. You'll see," she said mysteriously, before she turned and walked away, calling over her shoulder as she left, "Be certain you eat and sleep, or you'll never be able to help her."

_Well, that was...different, _Neville thought. Maybe she had a point, though. He felt strongly that his grandmother was still alive, even though she hadn't been found yet. And if he didn't keep up his strength, he wouldn't be able to help. He turned and continued his journey toward Gryffindor Tower, feeling strangely comforted. _Maybe I'll go and find some food. I'm feeling a bit hungry._

Neville went back to his dormitory and found some biscuits his grandmother had given him before he boarded the train. After he finished eating, he decided that he felt a bit better about the entire situation. Oh, he was still worried--he'd be worried until he saw Gran alive and well, that silly vulture on her hat bobbing as she walked. But he had more of a plan now, and he had something he hadn't had before he talked with Luna—hope.

Neville walked down the steps into the common room and over to where Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were sitting and talking.

"...invited us to come see him any time," he heard Harry say.

"Hi, Neville," Ginny said.

"Hello," he said, joining her on the couch. "What's going on?"

"We were just talking about going over to see Hagrid," Hermione said. "We have a bit of time before dinner, and he sent us an owl inviting us to come over any time."

"Oh," Neville replied. "That's—"

"Do you want to come with us?" Harry asked.

"Uh..." Neville said, surprised. He'd never been included like this before.

"Oh, that's a good idea, Harry. Neville, why don't you come?" Ginny asked. "Hagrid's always been able to cheer me up."

"All right. If—if you don't mind, that is."

"Neville, would we have invited you if we didn't want you to come?" Harry asked.

"No?"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh. "That wasn't really a question, Neville. You should know us well enough by now to know that we wouldn't have invited you if we didn't want you to come." He turned to look at the others in the group. "Isn't that right?"

Ginny and Hermione both answered, "Of course."

"Harry's right, Neville. You should come with us," Ron answered. "Have you ever been to Hagrid's before?"

"N—No, not for something like this."

"Ah, well, then you need to know. Don't eat anything he gives you. If you value your teeth, that is. Trust us." Harry, Ginny, and Hermione nodded in confirmation.

"Don't eat anything?" Neville repeated, confused.

"Right," Ron said. "You'll understand when we get there."

The group left the castle and headed out to Hagrid's. As they walked, they talked about the day's lessons. Hermione wanted to know how much revision everyone was planning on doing throughout the year. "Ginny has her O.W.L.s this year, you know, and we only have this year and next before we take our N.E.W.T.s," she said.

"Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly, "do we have to talk about exams, _now?_"

"Well, we need to have a plan, Ron. We all want to get good marks on our exams, and we can help Ginny with revising for her O.W.L.s, which will help all of us for our N.E.W.T.s next year. You know how important good marks—"

"I know that, Hermione, but could we not talk about homework and marks and school for just a little bit?"

"Well, I just think—"

"Look, we're here," interrupted a relieved Neville.

When they arrived at Hagrid's hut, Harry went to the door and pounded on it. The door was flung open almost immediately.

"There yeh are! I was wonderin' if yeh was comin' ter see me or not. Come in, come in," Hagrid boomed. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked right in, but Neville hung back, wondering what he should do.

"Well, come on, Neville. Are yeh comin' in or not?"

"Hello, Hagrid. If you don't mind..." Neville answered.

"Mind? Why would I mind? Been meanin' ter talk ter yeh, anyway," Hagrid said, motioning for Neville to come in and join the others. "Anyone care for some tea? An' I've got some rock cakes 'ere. Neville?"

"Er...all right. Thanks, Hagrid," Neville answered, then flinched when Ron elbowed him.

"What did you do that for?" Neville whispered angrily.

"Don't you remember what we said? Don't eat anything Hagrid serves!" Ron whispered back. "Well, now you'll know why."

The rest of the students politely declined Hagrid's offer of food after Hermione said that they'd be eating dinner soon. Hagrid brought Neville a cup of tea and a plateful of the rock cakes, which he settled on his lap. He gingerly bit into one of the cakes—or tried to at least; the thing was hard as a rock. Neville looked up to see Harry and Ron snickering at him as he tried to unobtrusively find a place to put the plate.

"So, Neville, how yeh been?" Hagrid asked. "Heard about yer gran. Wanted ter tell yeh not ter worry too much. Professor Dumbledore's the greatest wizard alive; if he can't find her, no one can."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Neville said quietly, "but I can't help but worry."

"Of course you can't, Neville," Hermione said. "But I think Hagrid's right. Professor Dumbledore will do everything he can to find her."

"Hagrid, was there something else you needed to see me about?" Neville asked.

"I was goin' ter ask yeh if yeh'd help harvest the pumpkins when they're ready. Thought yeh might like ter since yeh helped plant 'em las' spring."

"Of course I will, Hagrid. I'd like that," Neville replied.

"All righ', then. They shoul' be ready in a couple o' weeks. I'll let yeh know when yeh need ter come."

"Hagrid, do you mind if I help, too?" asked Ginny.

"'Course not, Ginny. Yer always welcome, yeh know that."

Ginny blushed and replied, "Thanks, Hagrid."

"I hate to interrupt, but it's almost time for dinner," Ron said. "We should get going."

"All righ', then," Hagrid answered. "Thanks fer comin' by ter see me. Come any time. You, too, Neville."

"Thanks, Hagrid, I will," Neville said as they walked out the door and headed toward the castle for dinner.

After dinner, they all retired to the Gryffindor common room. Ron suggested a game of Exploding Snap, but Neville and Harry declined in favour of doing their homework, since they had detention with Snape later that evening.

Neville and Harry made a bit of progress on their Transfiguration homework before they had to leave for the dungeon. Ron and Ginny wished them good luck as they left; Hermione told them to _try_ to not get on Snape's bad side.

"'Try not to get on Snape's bad side,' she says," Harry muttered as they trudged toward the dungeon. "As if we have any choice. I get on Snape's bad side just by _existing._"

"Maybe it won't be so bad, Harry," Neville said.

"What are you going on about, Neville? Of course it will be bad. It's Snape."

"I was hoping that since it was Professor Dumbledore's idea, Snape would be a bit more...forgiving," Neville replied.

"Hmph," Harry snorted. "Not likely."

They continued on in silence as they made their way to the entrance to the dungeon. As they neared the door, their steps slowed to a stop—neither wanted to go in.

Neville took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, "Suppose we better go in. Snape will throw a wobbly if we're late."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "All right. Let's get this over with." With that, he pushed open the door and stepped into Snape's lair.

Snape, who was sitting at his desk at the front of the room, sneered as they entered. "Well, well," Snape said. "Look who has deigned to join us."

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore said from the cosy armchair he was sitting in. He'd clearly transfigured the chair, since it obviously didn't belong in the dank dungeon. Neville and Harry looked at each other in surprise at the Headmaster's presence.

"Why do you think Professor Dumbledore is here?" Neville whispered to Harry.

"I don't know, Neville," Harry answered uncertainly, as they walked to the front of the room.

"Really, Headmaster, _must_ we do this?" Snape asked. "You can't honestly think that I'll be able to teach Potter or," he shuddered, "_Longbottom_ anything that will be useful to the cause. They have no respect for anything I could teach them."

"I can, and I do, Severus. It is imperative that you teach these two what you know," Dumbledore said serenely. He turned sharp eyes to the boys. "It is equally important that you learn what Professor Snape has to teach. I understand that it will be difficult. However, we must all do our best to get along. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Neville answered.

"Harry?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Yes, Professor. I understand," Harry replied reluctantly.

"Severus? You must also agree to this if it is to work."

"Of course, Headmaster. I shall endeavour to be as professional as possible, given the _circumstances,_" the potions master said, eyeing the boys critically.

Dumbledore sighed. "I suppose that that is all I can ask of you. Shall we begin?"

"Of course," Snape replied smoothly. "Today, we shall begin working on healing draughts. Mr. Longbottom, I understand that you helped Professor Sprout with healer's gardens?"

Neville answered, "Y-Yes, sir."

"Well?" he snapped. "What did you plant?"

"Toadflax, basil, coriander, rosemary, sage, and thyme," Neville replied.

"Is that all?" Snape asked.

"Yes, sir."

"It's a start, I suppose. However, we're going to need more varied ingredients. Longbottom, you will need to plant a more extensive healer's garden. We need to have as many components available as possible."

"What for?" Harry asked, looking Snape in the eye. He grudgingly added, "Sir" when the potions master raised his eyebrow at him.

"Potter, are you really that stupid?" Snape bit out. "Why do you suppose we might want to have ingredients found in a healer's garden available? Could it be because there's a _war_ coming? And people get _injured_ in wars? And we mightwant to _heal them? _Or could it be—"

"Patience, Severus, patience," the Headmaster interrupted, then continued in a quieter voice, "I know this is difficult for you, but we _must_ work together if we are to be victorious."

"Professor Snape," Neville said, "what kind of plants are we looking for?"

"Plants commonly used in healing potions: arnica, bergamot, calendula, and the like," Snape answered, his eyes flashing impatiently.

"All right, Professor. I'll go to the library after we're done here and start some research."

"See that you do, Longbottom," the potions master snapped. "Let's get this over with, then, shall we? We'll be making simple wound-cleansing potions." He turned toward the board, waved his wand, and watched as the instructions appeared there. "These are potions Madam Pomfrey keeps in the hospital wing." As Snape turned back to face the boys, he said, "Potter, before you make a fool out of yourself once again, let me answer your inevitable question. You'll need to know how to make these potions if you're out in the field and there's no medical help nearby. These potions will prevent an infection which could weaken or incapacitate you...or worse."

"W-Worse?" Neville squeaked.

"Yes, worse, you idiot!" Turning toward Dumbledore, Snape said, "Headmaster, I don't see how this can work if we aren't able to impress upon them that we will be fighting a _war_." He turned back to Neville, eyes blazing. "People _suffer_ and _die_ in war, Longbottom."

Neville recoiled as if he had been slapped. His parents had been tortured and were now in St. Mungo's, his house had been destroyed, and Gran was missing. He thought he knew the price of war very well, thank you very much. However, before he had a chance to say as much, Professor Dumbledore said, "That's enough, Severus. I'm sure that Mr. Longbottom is _quite_ aware of the suffering that war causes."

"Of course, Headmaster. I apologise for losing my temper."

Dumbledore stood and nodded, accepting the apology. "I must be off. Severus, come to my office when you are finished here. We have much to discuss." He waved his wand, and his cosy chair returned to its normal state before he left the dungeon.

Neville chanced a glance at Harry as Dumbledore left; he was afraid they'd have a repeat of the first day of classes, with Harry lashing out at Snape and getting them into more trouble. He was relieved to see that while Harry was obviously angry, it looked as though he was going to be able to hold his tongue this time.

"This potion takes two and one-half hours to brew. You will find what you need in the cupboard. Be sure to follow the instructions exactly. Remember what happened in your first year, Mr. Longbottom."

Hands shaking in a combination of nerves and anger, Neville added some water, sulfur, and ground porcupine quill to the cauldron and stirred three times anti-clockwise, as directed by Snape's instructions on the board. The potion had to simmer exactly three minutes and thirty-one seconds before adding the three drops of bitter orange oil, which served as an anti-inflammatory agent. Harry measured out the appropriate amount of giant's blood and added it to the cauldron. The potion had to be stirred clockwise seven times, anti-clockwise seven times, and then across the cauldron twice before it simmered again.

Sitting down beside the table, the boys watched the potion turn a pale green while it simmered. Harry sat tight-lipped in his chair, glaring at Snape while he measured out six grams of silver, the next ingredient.

Neville sighed as he watched Harry. He could feel the anger radiating off of his friend. Really, it seemed Harry was almost always either bitter and angry or withdrawn, and had been since the incident in the Department of Mysteries last June. Neville decided to talk with Ron and Hermione about him. _Or maybe Ginny, _he thought. _Hermione did tell me that Ginny had been able to get through to him before, even when she and Ron couldn't._

Neville snapped out of his reverie when he saw Harry move over to the cauldron to add the silver. They were almost done--only three more ingredients left to be added. Neville stood up, and with Harry's help, organised the final ingredients. The consanesco weed had to be added precisely two seconds after the addition of the bezoar, or their evening would be wasted. Neville grasped the consanesco weed, Harry grabbed the bezoar, and they moved to stand over the cauldron. As Neville caught Harry's eye, they nodded to each other to signify they were ready, and Harry dropped the bezoar into the cauldron. Seconds later, Neville added the consanesco weed and stepped back quickly as the cauldron began to smoke. The potion flashed rapidly from pale green to orange to bright red before settling on a brilliant purple colour. They looked triumphantly at each other—the instructions said the potion would be bright purple. Finally, Neville added the Flobberworm mucous to thicken the potion. It briefly turned pink before returning to its previous colour.

"I think we did it, Harry," Neville whispered excitedly, before looking up to see Snape bearing down on them.

Snape arrived at their table and began to inspect the potion. He checked the colour and then waved his hand over the cauldron to waft some of the steam toward him before ladling a small amount into a glass vial. "Will miracles never cease?" he sneered. "It seems as though you two have actually prepared a potion correctly for once. I'll need to take this to Madam Pomfrey so she can test it before I'm certain, of course."

"Yes, sir," Harry said sullenly.

"Longbottom, before our next meeting, I expect you to have a list of healing plants we need to round out our supplies. I'll talk with Professor Sprout about it so she'll know what you're doing."

"Yes, sir," Neville replied again. "Professor Snape? Are we finished? I mean, may we go?"

Snape waved his hand at them impatiently. "Clean up this mess and return to your dormitory. We're through for the night. You will return two weeks from tonight for your next lesson."

"Thank you, Professor." The boys carefully ladled their potion into several small flasks; they labelled the flasks and carried them over to the shelf before quickly cleaning the area up and making their way toward the Gryffindor common room.

Neville heaved a sigh of relief as they walked out the door. "Well, that wasn't so bad," he said.

Harry looked at Neville incredulously. "What do you mean, it wasn't so bad?" he asked. "Did you hear what he said about us? 'You can't honestly think that I'll be able to teach _Potter_ or _Longbottom_ anything that will be useful to the cause,'" Harry said mockingly. "He called me stupid and you an idiot. He—"

"Well, _of course _I heard him, Harry," Neville interrupted. "I _was_ right there, after all. You just need to learn to ignore what he says. He's a bitter, spiteful man. I sort of feel sorry for him."

"Neville, are you _mad?_" Harry sputtered. "You…you feel _sorry_ for him?"

"Well, yeah, sort of," Neville admitted. "He was a Death Eater, so no one trusts him, except maybe Dumbledore. He's wanted the Defence position for forever but keeps getting passed over. All of his students hate him. And," he paused dramatically, "he has no fashion sense, and he looks like he never washes his hair."

At the last remark, Harry looked at Neville out of the corner of his eye, and they burst out laughing.

"Okay, you have a point, Neville. Better not let Snape hear you say any of that, though," he said, still chuckling.

"Oh, don't worry about that." Neville suddenly stopped walking. "Harry," he said seriously.

"What's the matter, Neville?"

"I...er...I just wanted to thank you."

"What for?"

"Well, for inviting me to Hagrid's today, and for getting angry for me when Snape said those things. And for just being my friend. It means more than you know."

Harry looked stunned. "Neville, you know you're always welcome to come to Hagrid's with us. And Snape was being a git."

"I still appreciate it, Harry. I've discovered I need all the friends I can get, especially now."

Harry didn't respond, so Neville took the opportunity to add, "Harry, I just want you to know...if you ever need to talk about...anything...." He noticed that Harry was starting to look uncomfortable, but pressed on, saying, "I—I know I'm not as close to you as Ron or Hermione, and I'm not trying to take their place or anything. I just know that sometimes you need to talk to someone, and Ron and Hermione are wrapped up in their bickering and..." he trailed off.

"Neville, I—"

"I'm not saying you need to do it right now, I'm just saying, if you need someone to talk to, and you can't talk to Ron or Hermione, well...you know where to find me, right?" he said hurriedly.

Harry smiled slightly at him. "Thanks, Neville. I appreciate the offer, but—"

"Just keep me in mind, all right, Harry? That's all I'm asking."

Harry sighed and said, "All right, Neville. Look, we better get back. I still need to work on that Charms homework a bit." They walked the rest of the way to the common room in silence.

Back in the common room, Neville and Harry joined the others at the table to finish their homework, after telling them about their "detention." Ron and Hermione finished first and went to bed, and Harry followed soon after, leaving Neville and Ginny sitting at the table working in companionable silence.

After a while, Neville said, "Ginny? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Neville. What about?"

"Have you talked to Harry? I mean about what happened in June?"

"Er...no. He's not really been interested in talking, if you know what I mean."

"I just.... I don't know, I guess I'm worried about him, you know? He seems so angry all the time, and withdrawn, and just...."

"Sad," Ginny finished for him. "He just seems sad."

"Right." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I offered to listen tonight, if he ever needed someone to talk to. I—I don't think he'll take me up on it, but...."

"But what?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I was wondering if you might get better results. If you offered to listen, I mean."

"He won't talk to Ron or Hermione. What makes you think he'll talk to me?"

"I don't know, just a feeling, I guess. Look, think about it, okay? I just think that talking about it will help him. I know it helped me," he said, looking down at the table.

"Oh? Who did you talk to, Neville?"

"Luna," he answered.

Ginny put her hand on his arm and said quietly, "I'm glad, Neville. Harry mentioned that she talked to him a bit last year, and that it helped some. She's a good listener."

"Yes, she is; she's a good friend, too."

"Neville, you know if you ever need to talk, you can come to me, right?"

Surprised, he looked at her and said, "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Ginny."

"Neville, Harry's lucky to have you for a friend. We all are."

Embarrassed by that declaration, Neville cleared his throat and then said, "Right, then. I think I'm off to bed. Good night, Ginny."

"'Night, Neville. Sweet dreams."

_He was walking down the stairs of an old house, through the sitting room and into the kitchen. He could hear voices coming from the back garden. As he exited the house, he heard the voices burst into laughter. He recognised those voices, and he walked toward the bench at the rear of the garden, where he knew they would be waiting for him. His steps quickened as he got closer, until he was almost at a run. He had to see if what he was hearing was genuine, or if he was just imagining it._

_It smelled of roses and lavender...._

Neville sat up with a start and looked around in confusion. He was in his bed in Gryffindor Tower, not in the back garden. There were no roses or lavender; no laughing voices. Disappointed, he lay back down. The dream had seemed so real. He could actually _smell _the roses and lavender. Closing his eyes, he hoped the dream would continue. He _had_ to see them, to hear them, to touch them. Even if it was only in his dream.

**_A/N_**: _First off, I want to apologise for the delay in posting this chapter. One must actually **send** the file to one's beta if one wants it edited. Duh._

_Secondly, I need to thank a few people. Lucyjekyll has been my assigned PS beta since my first story was accepted here. Sadly, she's had to step down due to personal reasons. In the time that I worked with her, she patiently taught me loads about writing (especially those dreaded ellipses), and I can honestly say that this story wouldn't have gotten even this far without her help. Thanks, Lucy, for everything!_

_I also need to thank OHGinnyfan for bravely taking me on as one of her "official" authors after she'd been pre-betaing for me. I'm looking forward to working more with you! More thanks go to Zahri and Majick for their excellent Brit-picking, comments, and help with Hagrid's accent. This Texas girl had a hard time with him!_


	6. Chapter 5: Laughter is the Best Medicine

**Chapter 5**

**Laughter is the Best Medicine**

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed as he climbed through the entrance to the common room. "That woman is mental!"

"Who is, Ron?" Neville asked. He and Harry had spent the past half-hour diligently working on organising a list of additional healing plants for Snape, since their next 'detention' was scheduled for later that evening.

"Trelawney, of course!" He threw his bag on the floor beside Harry and started pacing. "First she partners me with _Lavender, _of all people. Then she gets all excited about my predictions—which, by the way, Harry and I completely made up last night--and praises my 'inner eye.' _Then, _since my predictions are so good, she makes me try to predict something right there. _In front of everyone!_ Seems she forgot she told that cow, Umbridge, last year that you can't just see on command." He whirled around at the sound of laughter coming from behind him. "You better stop laughing, Harry! You know she wanted me to predict your 'tragic and untimely death' again."

"You'd think she'd give up on that, since I'm not taking Divination anymore," Harry said, shaking his head.

"You'd think." Ron stopped pacing and shrugged apologetically. "Suppose you're still her favourite, though."

"Lucky me."

"So, I'm assuming you didn't predict Harry's death—"

"Don't even joke about that, Neville," Ron said, flinging himself into a chair across from Neville and Harry.

"Sorry, Ron. What _did_ you predict, then?" Neville asked curiously.

"Oh...er...nothing," Ron answered hastily, blushing.

Harry exchanged a glance with Neville and laughed, "Right, mate. That's why your face matches your hair. Come on, Ron, you can tell us. Can't he, Neville?"

"Of course, Harry. We would _never_ laugh at you, Ron." Neville said, grinning broadly.

"It's not important," Ron stammered.

"But, Ron, we want to know," Harry wheedled.

"Yeah, Ron, it must've been good, since you're so reluctant to tell us."

"Ron, Ron, Ron. You know you can trust us. Besides," Harry said with a wink at Neville, "we could always ask _Lavender_ what you predicted."

"All right, all right!" Ron shouted. He looked at his two friends and mumbled, "I said that oneofmyfriendswouldbekissedthisweek."

Neville looked at Harry, whose mouth was hanging open in astonishment, then back at Ron. "You said _what?" _he asked.

Ron sighed. "I said that one of my friends would be kissed this week," he repeated.

"Any idea which _friend_ that might be?" Harry asked slyly.

"Herm— Wha-what? Uh, no! I mean.... _No!_"

"Are you certain, Ron?"

"Yes, I'm positive!" Ron said, as he ran his hand through his hair. "I just couldn't think of anything else, and she wasn't going to let me go until I said something, and it just popped into my mind, and I said it before I thought about it. Stupid, stupid, _stupid._"

"What did Trelawney say?" Neville asked.

"Not much, really. Just seemed disappointed because I didn't predict that Harry was going to die. The rest of the class, though...." He shook his head. "Can someone please explain to me why girls _squeal_ like that when you talk about snogging?"

"You're asking _us?_" Neville said. "Don't know that you could find two blokes who know less about women."

"Hey, I resent that!" Harry said.

"Do you deny it?" Neville asked. "Or is there something you haven't told us? Some vast experience you have with girls, perhaps?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Er...well, no, of course not. I _have_ been kissed, though, which is more than you lot can say."

"I've been kissed," Ron said defensively.

"Your sister doesn't count, Ron," Neville said, chuckling.

"It wasn't my sister," Ron retorted.

Harry looked mischievously at him and said, "Hermione doesn't count either."

"I didn't say anything about Hermione! I'm not talking about her."

Neville and Harry looked at each other knowingly. "Of course you're not, Ron," Harry said.

Neville and Harry watched Ron struggle to regain his composure before he attempted to ask nonchalantly, "Anyway, why _wouldn't_ Hermione count? Just for curiosity's sake, of course."

Neville and Harry smirked at each other. "Of course. Curiosity's sake," Neville said. "No other reason at all you'd be talking about her."

"Wha-what do you mean?" Ron stuttered. "I _told_ you! We're _not_ talking about Hermione."

"Who's not talking about Hermione, Ron?" Ginny asked as she and Hermione entered the common room and started walking toward the boys. "I thought I heard you say her name. Didn't you hear your name, Hermione?"

Ron raked his hand through his hair again and muttered under his breath. Neville could just make out some of what he was saying, "...bloody...stupid...inner eye, my foot...mental, I tell you...."

Ginny raised her eyebrow and looked at Harry and Neville. "What's he going on about?"

"Not Hermione," Neville said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Oh, no, absolutely not. No way it could be Hermione," Harry snickered.

"Would you two mind not talking about me as if I weren't here?" Hermione said peevishly before she turned her attention to Ron and asked in a concerned voice, "Ron, what's the matter? You look flushed."

All it took was one good look at each other, and Neville and Harry lost the battle against the laughter that had been bubbling up inside of them. Harry laughed so hard that he almost fell off his chair and onto the common room floor, but he caught himself before he hit the ground. Neville, however, wasn't as lucky; he hit the floor with a loud _thunk, _gasping for breath.

"Yeah, Ron," he wheezed, "you look flushed. What's the matter?"

Ron threw his hands up in disgust. "Some friends you are," he said, before stalking over to the portrait hole and out of the room.

Hermione glared at them and followed Ron, saying, "Now look what you've done! I'm going to go find him. You two had better get a hold of yourselves; you have detention again tonight."

"Oh, Merlin, did you see the look on his face when Hermione walked in?" Harry asked as he tried to catch his breath.

"What about when we got him to tell us what he 'saw'?" Neville asked, still chuckling.

"All right, you two! What's going on here?" Ginny demanded, sending the boys into another fit of laughter.

"Sor-sorry, Ginny," Neville gasped. "Your brother is just so...."

"Thick?" Harry supplied, chuckling.

"Exactly," Neville said. "It's so obvious that he fancies Hermione, but he's so far into denial that he can't even admit it to himself."

"We couldn't help ourselves, Ginny. He just made it so easy; we had to give him a hard time about it," Harry said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said quietly. "It's so good to hear you laugh. You should do it more often."

Harry instantly sobered. "I haven't had much to laugh about lately, Ginny."

Neville started to fidget. He really didn't want to intrude on a private moment between Harry and Ginny, especially if she was going to try to get him to open up.

"Well, Neville hasn't either, Harry. I'm glad to see _both_ of you laughing," Ginny said seriously, looking at Neville and then back at Harry. "Look, I know you both are going through a hard time right now, and it doesn't help that you have to spend extra time with Snape, but you need to try to live your life to the fullest."

"But..." Harry said.

"No buts, Harry," Ginny answered sternly. "Sirius wouldn't want you to spend your life wallowing in self-pity, you know that. And Neville, your grandmother--your parents--they wouldn't either. You don't honour them by feeling sorry for yourself. You honour them by living your life."

"It's not that easy, Ginny," Harry said. "I can't just turn off the memories."

"No, we can't. But she's right," Neville said. "Gran wouldn't want me moping around. She'd want me doing everything I could to learn more and get ready to fight. And Mum and Dad would want me to have fun."

"See, Harry? That's the spirit, Neville!" Ginny said. "Why don't you two gentlemen walk me to dinner, and you can tell me what was so funny."

"I'm not very hung—" Harry broke off at Ginny's glare. "Oh, all right. It _was _pretty funny." Ginny linked each of her arms through one of the boys and they headed toward the portrait hole.

"Yeah," Neville said. "I thought Ron was going to kill us when we started—"

* * *

Neville and Harry stumbled wearily into the common room. Snape had been relentless in his lessons that night. In the three hours they were in the dungeons, Snape informed them that according to Madam Pomfrey, their potion from their previous detention worked perfectly, much to his consternation. Then he had them brew a second, more powerful (and therefore more difficult) healing draught; plan the cultivation of the additional plants Neville and Professor Sprout had recommended for the healing garden; start a batch of Veritaserum; debate the most effective way to use Polyjuice Potion; and discuss the basics of Death Eater organisation. By the time the night was through, Neville felt like he had been through the wringer, and Harry looked just as bad. 

"Blimey, my head hurts," Harry moaned. "Snape is a sadist. He tried to cram far too much information in there in far too short a time."

"But it was interesting, wasn't it?" Neville replied. "I never knew that Veritaserum was so difficult to make."

"I didn't either," Harry admitted. "I guess I should have, because last year Snape told Umbridge," he shuddered at the mention of her name, "that it would take him a month to brew up a new batch."

"Oh, that's right. When we were all up in her off—" Neville broke off at the look on Harry's face. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he berated himself. _Why'd you have to go and bring up that night? Why not just come right on out there and say it—'when we were in her office, before we went to the Department of Mysteries and your godfather died.' Like he doesn't remember all those details. Idiot!_

"Sorry, Harry," he mumbled in apology. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay, Neville," Harry said wearily. "I brought it up, after all."

"Er, right," Neville answered, and cast about trying to come up with a new topic.

"Listen, Neville, I'm going to bed. I'm knackered," Harry said. "I'll see you in the morning."

"All right, Harry. 'Night."

_Damn, _Neville thought to himself. _What did you go and do that for, Longbottom? Couldn't leave well enough alone, could you? Oh, no; you have to go and make him feel worse. Great. Just great._ He sighed and trudged up the stairs, following Harry to bed.

* * *

After breakfast the next morning, Neville and the rest of the Gryffindors headed off to their Advanced Charms lesson. They filed into the classroom and went to their seats. 

"All right, class," Professor Flitwick said. "Professor Andrews and I have been talking, and we feel like it would be to your advantage if we both taught you charms that can be useful for defence. There may be some overlap in the charms and spells taught, but I think you'll see that we both have different ideas about how they can be used. Today, we'll be learning spells that can crush or destroy things. Professor Andrews tells me that you already know _Reducto, _is that correct?"

"Yes, Professor," the class murmured. They had been practicing that particular spell in Professor Andrew's lesson for the past week.

"Very good. Mr. Longbottom, would you mind coming up and demonstrating for me? Professor Andrews was very impressed with your ability with this particular spell."

Neville blushed, but pushed himself out of his seat and went to the front of the classroom where Flitwick had conjured up a large brick wall.

Neville nervously cleared his throat and wiped his sweaty palms off on his robes before grasping his wand tightly. He pointed his wand at the wall and said clearly, "_Reducto!_" There was a loud crashing noise as a large hole appeared in the wall, and a pile of bricks appeared on the back side of the hole.

"Excellent. Two points for Gryffindor. Go ahead and take your seat, Mr. Longbottom," Professor Flitwick said, and Neville gratefully sat down, glad to be out of the centre of attention. "The Reductor Curse was originally invented to help with home repair and remodelling. It's very useful for doing large demolition work. There's another charm, also used in home remodelling and demolition. Does anyone know what it is?"

After a few moments of silence, he said, "I'm not surprised that no one knows. It's fairly obscure, unless you deal with demolition or construction charms regularly. The wizards who do this kind of work for a living are quite familiar with it, as are curse breakers. The spell is _Contundo._" Flitwick looked at the class to gauge their reactions before continuing, "_Contundo_ is a crushing spell. In construction—and curse breaking, for that matter—it's typically used after _Reducto_ to crush the larger pieces so they're easier to move. All right, let's try it. Everyone repeat after me, please. _Contundo._"

The class repeated the incantation until Professor Flitwick felt that they had the pronunciation correct. "Very good. Now, you need to learn the wand movements. Everyone watch me, please. Your wand will go to the left," he demonstrated slowly as he spoke. "Then, following the same path, go back to the right, and flick the wand upwards before pointing at the object you are trying to destroy. Everybody practice the wand motion, please."

Flitwick walked around the room, checking everyone's wand movements. Neville concentrated to make sure he got the pattern correct. Professor Flitwick had told him earlier that he wasn't bad at Charms; he just lacked self-confidence and needed practice. If practice was what he needed, then he'd do his best to get in as much as he could.

"No, no, Mr. Finnigan," Flitwick corrected. "Left, right, up, point. You'll have flowers sprouting from your desk before you can blink if you do it that way. Let me see it again. There you go. That's right. Mr. Longbottom, how are you doing?"

"All right, Professor."

"Let me see, please."

Neville slowly moved his wand in the pattern.

"Excellent, Mr. Longbottom." He turned to the rest of the class. "Now, I would like you to try the charm. Everyone needs to pick a brick from the pile to practice on. Remember, the incantation is _Contundo. _Begin."

Neville got his brick and brought it over to his desk, determined to master the spell. His first attempt didn't go so well. His aim was off a little, and he only managed to crumble the corner of the brick. He gave a sigh of relief that the brick was the only thing damaged until he noticed that the corner of the desk was missing, and there was a large hole in the floor. He looked around nervously to check that no one had seen his mistake.

He concentrated on the brick again, going over the incantation and wand movements in his mind one last time before saying, "_Contun—_"

Before he could finish the incantation, the brick—and the desk it was sitting on— crumbled into tiny pieces. White dust floated in the air and slowly settled on Neville's head and shoulders, turning his hair and robes a sickly grey.

"Oi! Watch what you're doing, Seamus!" Neville shouted.

"Sorry, Neville," Seamus called sheepishly. "Here, let me see if I can fix that."

"Uh, no, Seamus," Neville answered hastily. "That's okay. Don't worry about it. Really. Professor Flitwick can take care of it,"

"Oh, my. What's happened here?" Professor Flitwick said as he made his way to Neville's desk. "Mr. Longbottom, did you do this?"

"No, sir, it wasn't Neville," Seamus said sheepishly. "It was me. I overshot my brick a little."

"Well, then, Mr. Longbottom, why don't you share a desk with Mr. Potter for the rest of the class period while Mr. Finnigan and I clean up this mess. Go get another brick from the pile. There you go."

Neville walked over to the pile and picked out another brick before making his way over to Harry's desk, white powder drifting from his hair and clothing with every step he took. He made certain he left Seamus a wide berth in the process—he had no desire to be demolished like his desk.

"Neville, you're going grey," Harry exclaimed when Neville arrived at his desk. "What happened? I heard an explosion, and when I looked over there, your desk was in a million pieces and there was dust floating everywhere."

"Seamus," Neville replied simply. "He missed his brick and hit mine instead."

"Oh. The charm worked for him, then?"

"Well, except for the fact that his aim was off, and he destroyed my desk in the process," Neville said sarcastically, brushing ineffectively at the powder on his shoulders. "Glad I had my bag under the desk instead of on top of it. I was just getting ready to try the spell and everything just exploded in my face."

"You want to try now, Neville?" Harry asked. "I think I've just about got it."

"Yeah, let me give it a go," Neville said, grasping his wand. He thought about the incantation and wand movement one last time before saying, "_Contundo!"_ Again, Neville's aim was slightly off, but this time he managed to crush half of the brick, and only knocked a small hole in the desk.

"Not bad, Neville," Harry said. "You almost got it. You just need to adjust your aim a little bit."

"Harry, you know that aiming has never been my strong suit. I just can't ever seem to get it right," Neville replied.

"Here," Harry said, "try this. Think about where you need to hit the brick to get it to break apart the best."

"Okay, got it—should be in the middle, right?"

"Right. Think about a target right in the middle of the brick. Now imagine a beam of light going from the end of your wand to the centre of that target." He paused and thought a moment before continuing. "No...wait. I have a better idea. Try this instead. _Producto Facula._"

Neville was amazed to see a thin beam of yellow light come from the tip of Harry's wand and land wherever Harry pointed it. "Use the beam of light to show you where you should aim," Harry said. "See, like this," and he pointed to the centre of Neville's brick, before shouting, "_Contundo!_" The brick shattered, leaving the desk intact.

"Wicked," Neville said quietly. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Taught it to myself this summer," Harry said, looking embarrassed. "I was bored, so I did a lot of extra reading. Here, you try it. It's _Producto Facula._"

Neville squared his shoulders determinedly and said, "_Producto Facula,_" and a beam of yellow light shot from his wand and landed on the desk.

"Excellent, Neville! Let me go get you another brick, and you can try the other spell." Harry ran to the front of the room and grabbed some more bricks, before rushing back to his desk. "Here you go, Neville. Try again."

Neville pointed the beam of light at the centre of his brick, concentrating on its position before saying, "_Contundo._" Like Harry's, Neville's brick shattered, and nothing else was damaged.

"I did it," Neville gasped in shock. "Harry, I did it!"

"I knew you could, Neville," Harry said, placing another brick on the desk. "Here, why don't you try again?"

Neville nodded his head in agreement and screwed up his face in concentration, saying, "_Producto Facula._" Once the beam of light was centred on the brick, he memorised the position and shouted, "_Contundo!_" Again, the brick shattered, leaving the desk intact.

"Great, Neville. Now why don't you try to do the same thing, but faster? Like this," Harry said as he placed another brick on the desk. He took aim and rapidly said, "_Producto Facula. Contundo!_" watching as the brick crumbled to dust.

"Wow," Neville said. "That was...."

"Excellent, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick broke in. "And you, too, Mr. Longbottom. Excellent teamwork, the both of you. Five points to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, Professor," Neville said, "but it was really Harry who...."

"Mr. Longbottom, I've been watching you the whole time. While it's true that Mr. Potter showed you the light charm, you managed to perform it nearly perfectly on your first try. That's a remarkable achievement, and you've destroyed your last two bricks without Mr. Potter's help. Why don't you try again? Use more than one brick this time and see how you do."

"Yes, sir," Neville said to Professor Flitwick before turning to Harry. "Want to give it a try, Harry? I'd like to see if I can do more than one brick."

"Sure, why not?" Harry said. "You want to go first?"

"I...sure," Neville responded uncertainly.

"What do you think—three to start out with?" Harry asked as he motioned toward the pile of bricks at the front of the room. At Neville's nod, Harry said, "All right. Three it is, then. I'll be right back."

Neville spent the time Harry used getting the bricks to go over the wand movements and incantations one last time. His eyes widened as Harry stumbled back to the desk, his arms full of bricks.

"Didn't I say three bricks, Harry? Why did you bring..." he paused and gestured wildly, "all those? There must be over twenty there."

"Thought I'd save us some time," Harry said, dropping the bricks on the floor by the desk. "This way we'll have them right here." Harry carefully stacked three bricks into a small pyramid. "Okay, Neville, ready to try?"

"Ready," Neville replied, sounding more confident than he felt. He concentrated carefully, imagining where he wanted the brunt of the spell to land before shouting, "_Producto Facula. Contundo!_" The top brick crumbled into dust, but the other two remained virtually unharmed.

"Good, Neville," Harry said. "You destroyed that top one, and your timing was faster."

"Yeah, but I didn't get the others," Neville said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Oh, come on, Neville. You didn't really expect to get it on the first try, did you? It takes practice. Try again," Harry said as he replaced the top brick. "Try to hit it a little lower, where the three bricks all touch. See," he said, pointing to the spot he was talking about, "right about here. That way, you'll hit all three at the same time. Otherwise, you'll have to be really strong to get through the top one and still be able to destroy the bottom two."

"Okay." Neville took a deep breath, concentrated on the spot Harry had pointed to, and repeated the incantations. This time, all that was left when the smoke cleared was a pile of dust, which Harry swept off the desk with a wave of his wand.

"Excellent, Neville! That was perfect!" Harry clapped Neville on the back, saying, "I knew you could do it."

Neville blushed from the praise. "Thanks, Harry. But you helped. I couldn't have learned it without you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, you could, Neville. It might have taken you a bit longer, but you would have figured it out. I just...pushed you in the right direction a bit."

"Well, yeah, but...."

"Don't 'but' me, Neville. You did it. Now do it again." Harry flashed a quick grin, before stacking five bricks in a pyramid on the desk.

"Hey," Neville said weakly. "That's more than...."

"Oh, come on, Neville, you can do it. Just repeat what you just did with the three bricks, and it'll be fine. Hit them right in the middle."

Neville glared at Harry before examining the pile of bricks on his desk. He narrowed his eyes in concentration before trying the spells. To his surprise, all five bricks crumbled into dust on the desk.

He turned to Harry, wide-eyed. "I...I did it. I did it!"

"Great job, Neville."

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom. Excellent job," Professor Flitwick said from behind them.

The boys whirled in shock. "Professor. I'm sorry, we didn't see you there," Harry said.

Flitwick waved his hand dismissively. "It's all right, boys. Class just ended, but you two were concentrating so hard that I wanted to let you finish. Your friends are waiting outside."

"Thank you, Professor," Neville said.

"Oh, Mr. Longbottom? If I might make a suggestion...this room will be available for practice in the evenings. You might want to try to increase the number of bricks you're attempting and the speed with which you destroy them. I'd also suggest increasing the area the bricks take; instead of stacking them in a pyramid, try them in a line or something similar. Eventually, you'll want to eliminate the light charm. You too, Mr. Potter."

"All right, Professor," the boys chorused together while gathering their things. "Thank you."

Flitwick told them to have a good weekend and waved them out of the room, saying, "Remember, you can use this room to practice in if you need it."

The boys walked out the door, talking excitedly about the class before meeting Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors in the corridor. As soon as they exited the room, Hermione pounced on them. "Harry!" she exclaimed. "What was that light charm you were doing? Could you teach it to us? Where did you learn it? How does it work? What else can it—"

"Breathe, Hermione," Ron said. "If you want him to answer you, you need to slow down and give him a chance."

She glared at Ron impatiently, before turning back to Harry. "Well, Harry? Are you going to tell me...I mean us?"

"Uh, sure. Could we not do this in the middle of the corridor, though? We have a break before lunch. Let's go to the common room, and I'll tell you, all right?"

Hermione huffed impatiently as they started walking. "Oh, all right. But you have to tell us everything."

Harry rolled his eyes at Neville and said, "All _right, _Hermione. I'll tell you everything."

"Maybe you could teach us all at the next DA meeting," Seamus said. "The first one went really well, I thought."

"And that's despite the fact that Ron nearly hexed Blaise Zabini when he and Daphne Greengrass walked into the room," Dean added.

"What?" Ron asked defensively. "They're Slytherins. You can't trust them."

"Oh, come on, Ron. Blaise seems like a good enough guy," Harry said. "He knows his hexes, and he listened when I talked. _And_ he didn't make any trouble."

"Yeah, but..." Ron sputtered.

"Honestly, Ron. Harry's the leader, and he gets to decide who's in the DA. And he's right. Blaise did a good job," Hermione said.

"He helped me with that binding curse we were trying to learn," Neville said. "I thought he was pretty nice, for a Slytherin."

"But, a _Slytherin?_" Dean asked as Ron nodded his head.

Hermione huffed again. "You know the Sorting Hat warned about this the past two years. We need to work together if we're going to fight You-Kn--"

"Say his name, Hermione," Harry interrupted firmly. "We should _all_ say his name." He turned and looked at the rest of the group before stopping at Ron. "You, too, Ron. At least I know that Hermione _can_ say it. You still avoid it like the plague."

"Professor Dumbledore says that fear of a name leads to fear of the thing itself. I...I don't want to be afraid anymore," Neville said determinedly. If it means that I have to say V-Voldemort's name, or work with Slytherins, then I'll do what it takes. Blaise and Daphne helped me, and I can use all the help I can get."

"All right, all right," Ron said, holding his hands up in defeat. "Doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

Harry turned to his friend and said, "Thanks, Ron. Your support means a lot to me." He grinned. "Even if you don't want to give it. You still need to say Voldemort's name, though."

"Yeah, yeah. Give a bloke a chance to get used to the idea, all right?"

Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder and said, "All right, mate. But don't take too long getting used to it. I'm going to make everyone say it next Tuesday at the DA meeting."

Ron, Dean, and Seamus all groaned together at Harry's comment. "He will, too, the git," Ron mumbled good-naturedly under his breath.

Laughing, the group turned the corner that led them to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, gave the password, and climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.

* * *

_**A/N:** The English to Latin Dictionary __(catholic dot archives dot nd dot edu/cgi-bin/lookdown dot pl)__) is my friend. _Contundo _means "to crush." _Producto _means "to bring forward" or "to bring forth light"and _Facula _is "a little torch."_

_Again, many thanks to OHGinnyfan and Zahri for their excellent beta-reading skills._

****

**Misting Morning: **Thanks so much for the compliment. I hope I live up to your expectations.

**Seamusisevil:** Thanks for the compliment. I'm also a big Neville fan (as I think you can probably tell). About submitting this to The Sugar Quill—unfortunately, this story doesn't meet their requirements for a first submission (since it's set in the 6th year), and I don't have anything archived there yet. It _is_ archived at PhoenixSong (www dot phoenixsong dot net), though, and I always put chapters up there first (this chapter has actually been up there for the better part of a month; I'm just now getting it up here).


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